Eleven Easy Steps To A Normal Life
by Lexie Jayne
Summary: Sequel to "How to Piss Off An X5 in Eleven Easy Steps". Jondy's back in Seattle - and back with Zack. Max and Logan have to face decisions about their future and Alec's got girl troubles... and there's an old enemy who's going to stuff everthing up.
1. Viva Los Angeles

**Author's Notes: **Okay, so it's been almost a year. And I'm sorry, but I've been really unsatisfied with this. But the first chapter is here, and I swear I'll try and update more often. To be quite honest, most of the problem has been the fact I cannot think up a decent title for this. Ugh.

**Thanks To:** Rose, who kept me motivated with this. Thank you so much. Jacey, for trying to covince me it wasn't all crap and to everyone who has asked about this is the last 11 months and 23 days. And Jaz, for being the person I got to for anything Jondy-esque. Can't wait till you post something, girl.

* * *

**Eleven Easy Steps To Having A Normal Life. **

_The sequel to How To Piss Off An X5 in Eleven Easy Steps_

* * *

Do you know the four things that I truly love about my world?  
  
Chocolate, shoes, sex and the abundance of hot men that seem to be around me. Especially, but not limited to, hot doctors.  
  
Not like those television doctors that are all wind swept hair and deep, serious voices. Real ones that I happen to work with. Like my partner for the last three months; Dr Jamie Anderson. Dr Jamie Lucas Anderson, who grew up in Florida with one younger sister, and moved to Los Angeles five years ago when this hospital - All Saints Children's Hospital - urgently needed a Head of Paediatrics. He's older than me, about 34, but he's got that total- hottie thing going on.  
  
Of course, I've got Zack in Seattle. Zack and I are like two halves of a whole, soul mates, we love each other and are not complete without the other - and the sex is...  
  
You can use your imagination. But that doesn't mean I can't admire Jamie. He is a truly gorgeous Ordinary. And if I was single, he'd be in trouble... but I'm not. Zack. Zack in Seattle.  
  
I know if Zack was here with me in L.A - preferably waiting for me in bed when I got home after my shift - I'd hardly notice Jamie's existence. And I'd hardly be able to walk. But Zack's in Seattle, and I'm in Los Angeles, and I haven't had sex with Zack in three months, so of course I'm admiring the eye candy.  
  
Just for the record, on three separate occasions, Zack has called me and ... well, the first time he was so totally plastered, he wanted ... okay, this is kind of embarrassing. Zack was so drunk... okay, it's still a delicate issue with me, I'm still slightly embarrassed, but it was Alec's fault and Alec has been severely ticked off by me for it.  
  
The second time, he sounded lonely and wanted to come down and visit for the weekend. But I was working, literally, all weekend. I started on the Friday night shift and ended noon Sunday. So I told him to 'suck it up'. I still feel mean.  
  
Finally, the third time, I was in heat and Zack made the mistake of calling me... lets not go there.  
  
Anyway, yeah. But I swear I haven't cheated on Zack. I haven't kissed a guy in three months. Jamie is a completely honorable guys; he's taken me out to dinner a few times, and out for drinks with our colleagues. And yeah, he's admired my physique a few times, but it's not like I haven't admired his. So yeah. Nothing's happened and I'm not going to let it. I mean, Jamie knows I have a boyfriend... sort of. I mean, I've insinuated there's this guy in Seattle, and Jamie was really nice about it. He was polite, and didn't walk out of the restaurant, so it's all good.  
  
"Jondy?" My flatmate, Fiona , waved her hand in front of my face. "You still on Planet Earth, girl?"  
  
Fiona's a doll. Met her when I was in L.A. the first time, after the whole Zack-dumping-me-at-the-alter thing. She was a fashion major, and she's now a fashion editor for a low budget magazine. She's got awesome curly red hair and green eyes and she's just really pretty. And mad fun. Anyway, she let me shack up in her place while I was here. Her boyfriend is in Chicago working, and she had a spare room.  
  
"What? Fi? Of course I am!" I say quickly. I'm still in my pyjamas, stirring my spoon around the remains of my cereal.  
  
"You were day dreaming about Dr Anderson again, weren't you, Jondy?" Fi said darkly, sipping at her coffee.  
  
"Of course not," I replied, taking a bite of my now soggy cereal.  
  
"You so were. You had "Dr Anderson" face," Fiona said. "Jondy, you have a hot, intelligent, ready-to-commit boyfriend who is really good in bed waiting vigilantly for you back in Seattle and you insist on drooling over some doctor who'd step over his own mother's body for a mirror so he could look at himself? It's pathetic."  
  
"He's a really nice, genuine guy!" I said, dropping my cereal spoon to the table with a clatter.  
  
"So was Jack the Ripper, I'm sure," Fiona said darkly. "Jon, is one night with Dr Anderson really worth your relationship? Cause that's all you'd get out of 'Jamie'."  
  
"Not with my muscle control," I retorted, flicking some cereal at her. "I'd say a week. Which is why I am not going there. I love Zack. I couldn't live without him."  
  
"While your heartfelt declaration of love is touching and reassuring, you have half an hour before your shift begins," Fiona motioned at the clock on the wall.  
  
"Crap." Today was my final shift at the hospital ever, and tonight I was driving back to Seattle. I dumped my cereal bowl into the sink and went into my room to get dressed.  
  
Suddenly my cell phone burst into song, from it's home in the kitchen.  
  
"If it's anyone, tell them I'll call them tonight!" I called from my bedroom, struggling into a pair of black pants.  
  
"It's Zack," Fiona called back. "The man has paranoid ESP. And with good reason."  
  
"For the last damn time, I have not cheated on Zack and never will. It's a bit like Alec reading porn magazines while sleeping with Brin; not considered cheating," I hissed, as I took my phone from Fiona. "Hello?"  
  
"Jon." Ahhh, just hearing Zack's voice makes me feel better. And makes me want to jump him.  
  
"Zack, how are you?" I asked, waving Fiona away and going off to my room, shutting the door.  
  
"Missing you," he admitted after a short pause. I feel a stupid grin spread across my face as I sank onto my bed.  
  
"I'll be back in Seattle tomorrow night," I practically cooed. God I'm pathetic. I'm meant to be Miss Girl Power and here I am melting the minute I hear Zack's voice.  
  
That can't be healthy.  
  
"Max misses you," Zack said. "She's getting really moody and keeps demanding to know when you're getting back."  
  
"I miss her too. But seriously, coming home tonight," I say, smiling at absolutely nothing. "And the absolute second I walk in the door, I wanna do really naked things to you. Just so you can prepare yourself. And make sure the peanut gallery stays away till tomorrow."  
  
Zack laughed. "Sounds like my kind of night."  
  
"Mmm," I say, letting my imagination run away with Zack. "Okay, I have to go. I'm meant to be at work in 17 minutes and Jamie hates me to be late.. It totally messes up the kids' routine."  
  
"Jamie?" All of a sudden Zack's voice is gruff and serious. "Who the hell is Jamie?"  
  
I froze. Crap, I forgot how damn jealous Zack could get. "My partner."  
  
"Put Fiona on," Zack ordered. "Now."  
  
Ugh. This is just perfect. "Fi-ona!" I bellowed. "Zack wants to talk to you!"  
  
Fiona was right outside the door, I knew. She was eavesdropping. It's like a flat tradition. See, I do it to her now. She knows that Zack's like a god in bed and I know her boyfriend has a pierced...  
  
Never mind.  
  
"Yes, oh flat-mate-of-mine?" Fiona stuck her head in the door after a suitable lapse of time.  
  
"Zack wants to talk to you," I said sourly.  
  
Fiona blinked and rolled her eyes, taking my cell phone. "While I talk, you get dressed," she ordered. "And wear something frumpy."  
  
Fiona flopped onto my bed. "Zack? It's Fiona. What's up? Oh, Dr Anderson? Jondy's been drooling the whole time. It's revolting. But she swears black and blue that it's like you reading a porno! You don't read porn? Huh. Then I guess Jondy's cheating on you. Anyway, I've got to go and make sure Jondy makes it to work. Nice talking to you and I hope you and Jondy have a great time doing naked things tomorrow night. Bye!"  
  
Fiona tossed me my phone. Fantastic. Nine minutes and I have to completely fix my relationship.  
  
"Zack," I began. "Yes, I think Jamie is a very attractive guy and I know it's awful of me because we're dating but you see, it's only because I haven't had sex in three months and I'm kind of totally gagging for it. Otherwise you know I wouldn't look sideways at another guy; I love you and can't imagine being with anyone else." I paused, needing to take breath.  
  
I could almost hear Zack rolling his eyes. "Jondy, I trust you. I just called to wish you luck today and check what time you thought you'd be in Seattle tomorrow."  
  
"Bout eight; the sector checkpoints between here and Seattle are a bitch," I replied, struggling into a blue top. "And I still gotta pack my car."  
  
My baby. Once upon a time, it was a sleek, black BMW, probably cost half the White House. Now, it's banged up pretty good, with a dud radio and shoddy air conditioning, but it's still a car I paid for with money I earned doing legal jobs. And Zane promised me, once I got the car to Seattle, he'd virtually rebuild the whole thing for me. And Fiona and her boyfriend, Robert, are coming up to Seattle when he gets back for a working holiday, and they're bringing my motorcycle up with them.  
  
"You've got to go to work, Jondy," Zack said gently. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."  
  
"Love you," I said softly, holding my boots in one hand.  
  
"Love you too," Zack replied, almost gruffly. Even after all these years, he has trouble telling me he loves me when I'm not there with him. Like, over the phone. Or via email, even though he barely ever emails me. It makes me giggle to know that our nagging, pain in the ass CO is now professing his love to a girl on a daily basis. The funny part is that it's me, and I wouldn't change it for the world.  
  
"I gotta go, I'm going to be late," I say regretfully. "Bye, Zack."  
  
"Bye Jon."  
  
I pressed the 'end' button on my phone and threw it into my handbag.  
  
"Jondy, six minutes!"  
  
"Thank you for the update, Fiona!" I bellow back. Okay. My sunglasses. Where were my glasses? Damnit, I couldn't have lost them already, I only bought them last week. I've only worn them once! And to top the whole thing off, my clothes, shoes and general stuff are all over the room. It looks like a grenade went off in here. Okay, the sunglasses aren't in my dresser or in my bad... maybe they fell out of my bag the other day. I drop to my floor and pull out the shoes, scarves, underwear, magazines...  
  
They were there! Yes! I yanked them out and something small and round, like a coin rolled out with them...  
  
"Oh," I said softly, dropping my glasses and picking it up. It was my engagement ring Zack gave me all those years ago. Five, I think. It's silver, very fine band, with a diamond in the middle. Inside, it says, "Jondy - Zack." I think that was a suggestion by Zane or Tinga because that's just not something Zack would think of. Maybe he did back then, but now... things have changed too much. He was more of a romantic when we first hooked up than he is now, I suppose.  
  
"Jondy, you've got two hundred and eight seven seconds... hey, what's that?" Fiona dropped to her knees beside me. "Ooh, is that your engagement ring?"  
  
"Was my engagement ring," I corrected. "Must've fallen out of my jewellery box."  
  
"It's absolutely gorgeous..." Fiona breathed, reaching for it. "I cannot believe you almost lost it, Jon."  
  
I shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I'll get the names covered up when I get back to Seattle and fence it. Should get upwards for 8k for that rock. Use it to rebuild my baby."  
  
Fiona gaped at me and shook her head, sliding the ring on her finger and admiring it.  
  
"Jondy DeLuca, there is absolutely no way in hell I can let you do that. I mean, this ring! It's like a symbol of everything you've been through to get to this point in your lives. I mean, you almost died on that last mission and now you're together... this ring is a symbol of your everlasting, undying love Jondy and you want to trade it for car parts?" Fiona half screeched. "Car parts!"  
  
"And maybe a shiny gun!" I protested, gazing at the ring. "Besides, jewellery isn't really my thing. And what am I meant to do with it? Wear it? Wow, that would be a sure fire way to end my relationship."  
  
"Jondy," Fiona shook her head. "Yeah, wearing it as an engagement ring would scare Zack off. It would scare Rob off. B-ut, I have a better idea."  
  
Fiona pulled my jewellery box to the floor and dumped the contents out. I have a fairly impressive collection of jewellery because Brin used to actually make the stuff. And I have this long silver chain - it's really a bit too long, but it was the first thing Brin made for one of us, I always kept it and wore it quite a lot. At the moment, it had a large butterfly charm on the end of it. Fiona pulled the butterfly off and threaded the ring onto it.  
  
"There. Sentimental yet stylish," Fiona smiled. "My mother always told me if I had to break off an engagement, not only would she kill me, but it was the right thing to do to give the ring back to the groom. I'm not sure why, something about etiquette."  
  
"Fi, I'm hardly a lady," I said, taking the chain with my ring on it from her. "And I have so gotta go."  
  
"You so do," Fi agreed. "Catch you later, babe. Don't you dare leave without me, okay?"  
  
"I promise," I grinned. "See you tonight."  
  
I grabbed my bag, jamming my sunglasses in it. "I need to pack when I get home," I sighed, looking around my room. "Know where I can get some boxes?"  
  
Fiona just stared at me. And then at the shoes, clothes, underwear and general stuff that was thrown haphazardly around my room. "You need to take all of this back with you to Seattle?" she said faintly.  
  
"Yup," I said, running my fingers through my now shoulder length brown hair. It's grown a lot since I was in Seattle last. I've had Fiona cut it twice since I moved to Seattle. Fi's into all that hair and make up stuff I've never taken the time to learn. So, she's educated me a bit. I swear we've blown a million dollars on shopping sprees this summer.  
  
Traffic was surprisingly good this morning; but maybe that was just because I was late.  
  
Damnit.  
  
Fiona doesn't have to go into work until 10 am, lucky girl. And even then, it's up to her how long she stays. And she spends her days shopping for her magazine.  
  
I parked my car quickly and raced through the hallways. I'm working in the terminal part of the hospital - children with cancer, AIDS, things that can't be cured, just be managed. I honestly thought that working with these kids would be depressing and awful. But most of my patients are really great kids; I've never seen most of them cry, they're usually happy kids and they're always happy to chat with me.  
  
I race into the nurses station, where I meet Jamie of a morning, grabbing my patient files from my pigeon hole as I race past, flipping through them quickly.  
  
"Good Morning, doctor," Jamie is waiting for me patiently as I skid to a stop. "Running a little late this morning."  
  
I shrugged, giving him a smile. "Sorry Dr Anderson, family business. Won't happen again."  
  
"It won't," Jamie said as he motioned for me to follow him. "Today's your last day, isn't it Jondy?"  
  
"Yes," I nodded.  
  
"Well, I was talking to the committee last night," Jamie said, making notes in a file. "And Professor Dylan emailed me this morning. All Saints would like to offer you a full time job here, working with cancer patients. You seem to have an aptitude for working with them."  
  
I blinked. "A full time job?"  
  
Jamie nodded. "The hospital is willing to pay you a five figure sum, plus a car and living expenses for a month. We're hoping you'll accept. I'm hoping you'll accept."  
  
I blinked. Wow. Too much to process. "I thought All Saints applied for a government pay-out. How can I be paid that much if we're eligible for that pay-out?"  
  
Jamie looked at me. "The extra funding is available to us via a technicality. Don't worry about that, Jondy. I would really like you to stay here. I think you could go far."  
  
I sighed. "Jamie, I'd love to take this job. It's a great opportunity and all that. But I've got family in Seattle."  
  
Jamie gave me a look. "A boyfriend?"  
  
"Yes," I replied, shrugging. "I'm sorry. I have to say no."  
  
Jamie nodded, a blank expression on his face. "Well, of course, it's your decision. I'd be happy to act as a reference for any jobs in the medical profession you chose to pursue."  
  
"Thank you," I smiled at him. "I hope I haven't been too much of a pain in the ass this summer."  
  
"You're certainly not what I expected," Jamie replied, and then smiled at me. "In a good way, Jondy. And I know the kids have appreciated you. You relate to them."  
  
"I love kids," I replied, shrugging. "We should probably get moving."  
  
"Yes," Jamie nodded. "We should. I need to go and discuss some treatment with Dr Lawson. Can you go and check on Danielle?"  
  
"Did she start her chemo yesterday?" I asked, looking at Danielle's file.  
  
"Yes. She's worried about her hair," Jamie rolled his eyes. "I'll never understand young girls."  
  
"I'll go talk to her," I smiled.  
  
"I'll be in soon," Jamie replied.  
  
Danielle is twelve. She just makes me want to have a daughter of my own. She's just been diagnosed with leukaemia and had her first round of chemo yesterday. I remember the tests that were run on me when I was at Manticore and I just feel so sad for her.  
  
"Hey Danielle!" I walk into her room. She's tucked up into bed, her long black hair done up in ribbons. "How are you feeling?"  
  
Danielle looks up at me. "Dr DeLuca!" She looks at her hands. "Dr Anderson said I was going to lose all my hair."  
  
I shook my head and sighed. "Danielle, you're going to lose your hair. But it might not be such a bad thing. I mean, yes, it won't be great but would you rather be sick or would you rather get well?"  
  
"Get well," Danielle said quietly.  
  
I nodded. "Exactly. And you'll grow it all back. I didn't have hair until I was eight."  
  
Danielle looked up. "Why not?"  
  
"Uh, I was sick as a small child. Neurological problem. I've got it covered now." A corrupt nurse in the Dispensary. She had a penchant for lipsticks. Lipsticks Fiona was always being sent from make up companies, because of the whole magazine thing. I just paid Fiona a couple of bucks for the lipsticks she didn't use.  
  
"So, it just started grow back?" Danielle reached out to stroke my hair.  
  
"Yup. And I cut it short and it grew back. Everything in this world is balanced; for every good thing, there is a bad thing and a neutral thing. Everything will work out, Danielle. But you will lose your hair."  
  
Danielle frowned. "Does that mean something good will happen to me next?"  
  
"Definitely," I said with a grin. "Was the chemo too awful?"  
  
Danielle shook her head. "I never want to do it again. I hate it."  
  
"Well," I said, standing up. "I've got nothing to do till Dr Anderson comes and finds me."  
  
"Can you get some ice cream? I'd kill for some ice cream," Danielle said.  
  
So, I spent the next hour with Danielle, playing Monopoly and eating vanilla ice cream. Jamie turned up eventually and I had to leave her with the rest of the tub of ice cream.  
  
The rest of the day was slightly boring. I had to sit through a meeting about the hospital, which meant by the time my shift was finished I was starving.  
  
I went and cleared out my locker and left the hospital. It was after five and I wanted to be leaving L.A. by eight...maybe ten tonight. Had to pack my car and have one last dinner with Fiona and go.  
  
Maybe have a cat nap.  
  
"Jondy!" I turned around to see Jamie jogging towards me.  
  
"Jamie, I thought you'd gone already," I said, as he paused beside me. "Your shift ended before mine."  
  
"No, no. Not for a few more hours. No rest for the wicked," Jamie said with a grin. "I wanted to give you this." He handed me a letter. "A reference, in case you decide to apply for a job in a Seattle hospital. I'm sorry you won't stay with us, but if you ever decide to come back to L.A., there will always be a job here for you."  
  
"That means a lot to me," I replied. "I wish I could stay, but I know I wouldn't be happy without my boyfriend and family."  
  
"I wish you could stay too, Jondy," Jamie said, touching my face.  
  
"I better go," I took a step backwards. "Thank you for the reference."  
  
Whoa. Whoa. Jamie just totally put the moves on me. I cannot believe it. I told him I had a boyfriend. I've never had some guy flirt with me who knew about Zack...  
  
In Jamie's defence, if he met Zack, he wouldn't have even considered flirting with me. Zack has this hobby which includes dismembering any guys that look at me the right - or wrong - way.  
  
I threw my stuff in the car and climbed in. Okay, go home, pack my stuff, eat something with Fiona, shower and leave. I'd have to leave the cat nap until I got to Seattle. Damnit. This is what I get for staying up till 3am watching old Pre-Pulse soaps.  
  
I pulled up outside Fi's and grabbed my bag, racing inside. Fiona was sitting on the couch, typing away at her laptop.  
  
"Fiona!" I burst in, throwing my satchel on the kitchen table. "You will never guess what happened to me! God, I have to pack. Don't suppose you found those boxes for me? Wanna order pizza or Chinese?"  
  
"Jondy! Breathe!" Fiona stood up, pulling her reading glasses off. "Go do whatever you have to do. I've got both pizza and Chinese in the fridge. You just have to nuke it when you're hungry. Don't freak out."  
  
"Thank you!" I said, flinging my arms around her. "You nuke dinner, I'll start packing?"  
  
"Jon, go shower. And stop talking," Fiona sighed. "Honestly, Zack must either be deaf or be really, passionately in love you."  
  
I stuck my tongue out at Fiona and raced into my room, to get some clean clothes.  
  
And all my belongings were in boxes or bags, ready to be packed into my car. A pair of jeans and a new pale blue top lay folded on my bed.  
  
"Well, since last issue went to press yesterday, I called in sick this morning and worked from home," Fiona came up behind me. "There was no way you could make the sector curfew unless I packed for you. You suck at packing."  
  
"You totally rock," I said, amazed. "But... some of these bags aren't mine. And neither are those clothes."  
  
"Jondy! The amount you pay me for rent covers me and Rob for a couple of months! You pretty much paid for those two bags," Fiona grinned. "Besides, we used them the issue before last, and I already have way too many."  
  
"And the clothes?" I held up the top. It was made out of a beautifully silky fabric.  
  
"Going away present. Thought you should look sexy when you and Zack hook up," Fiona said with a grin. "It's all good."  
  
"It is," I smiled at her, hugging her. "You've been the best friend I could wish for, Fi."  
  
"You too, Jondy," Fi replied, hugging me back. "And don't think just because you're going back to Seattle, we won't talk. I'll ring you every weekend, and Rob and I'll bring your bike to Seattle soon, I promise."  
  
"Zack and I'll be back and forth a lot, I hope," I replied. "I mean, he can freelance with that PI firm he's with and I can specialize or something. We're going to see each other. I promise."  
  
"Good. Now, go shower!" Fiona said, whacking me gently on the shoulder.  
  
Okay, it took me awhile to get ready. I had the shower and changed, Fiona and I ate the Chinese and the pizza, then we had a tearful farewell and then I had to go and get my sector passes from the kitchen; I never was much at the organization thing.  
  
So, yeah, I got away at nine. I had two giant bags of M&Ms to keep me on a sugar-high, a couple of cans of Coke, and my cell phone was hooked up to hands-free. So I could completely focus on driving.  
  
A lot has changed in three months. After the whole debacle with Vivisys, everyone except Jace relocated to Seattle; we decided we'd all stay in Seattle until after Max's baby is born in case someone else comes after us. Jace decided to go back to Canada, because that's where Maxine - Maxa, as we all call Jace's daughter - goes to school.  
  
Zack got a new job, which we're all still a bit shocked about - for the last four years, he divided his excessive amounts of time between Jam Pony and doing leg work for Logan and Eyes Only. Now? Well, he went and got himself a street reputation for the guy that solves everything. He's now working with a PI firm. It pays better than Jam Pony ever did. But I'm worried, because he's uncovered a few murders high up in the local government. I'm worried someone might put the hit on him.  
  
Syl and Krit decided to move into Max's old building, a few apartments down from Original Cindy's. Syl and Brin, reunited after five years, borrowed some money of Normal (yes, money. Yes, Normal) and started up a gallery combining Syl's photography talent and Brin's painting and drawing talents. I know they haven't managed to pay Normal back yet, much to Normal's horror. Brin said something about working part time at Jam Pony to work off the debt.  
  
Alec still works at Jam Pony. I think Alec will be working there when Normal's dead.  
  
It's just... three months is a long time to be gone, really. I completely missed Evie's ninth birthday; her present is in one of the bags that Fiona packed for me. Rain will have applied for college - I have absolutely no idea what she wants to study. I have no idea what went down between Tinga and Charlie - or Tinga and Zane - while I was gone and everything is just totally messed up. I hated being away from them for so long.  
  
I don't make it to Seattle until the next night. Twenty four hours of driving (ahh, the creation of sector checkpoints on freeways) makes a girl really jumpy.  
  
Or maybe that was the M&Ms. And the Coke.  
  
I've never been so pleased to see the Space Needle on the horizon in my life. Or Seattle.  
  
I practically hissed at the Sector Cop who questioned the authenticity of my pass. Luckily, he let me through.  
  
Thank God.

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**AN: **I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I'd love you forever if you could review and let me know what you thought, and what you'd like to see (even though I've worked out most of it. ;)) 


	2. Sex and Chocolate

**Author's Notes: **I am completely and totally psyched that people wanted to read this. Thanks to all of you so, so much. It made my week. Obviously this is the second chapter, and the last of the prewrites, as I'm really unhappy with the current Ch 3. So you may have to wait a little longer to get that, because I go back to school on Tuesday and I have exams. So, yeah. Exams do suck, but there's really nothing I can do about that.

* * *

I know I will get some sort of fine from the council; I broke the speed limit several times over. I just had to see Zack. It was like the heat cycle I had gone through two months before had decided to come back with a vengeance.  
  
Or maybe my body finally realised how soon I'd be doing really naked things to my boyfriend.  
  
I parked my car in the car park under Zack's building. All the security guards seemed to know me, so either Zack's been talking, or they recognize me from autumn.  
  
I grabbed my laptop and my backpack; I'd worry about the rest of my stuff later. I just wanted to be in Zack's arms - or bed. Really, I'm not a picky girl.  
  
I jammed my keys in the door, before the elevator had even shut behind me.  
  
"Zack?" I called out, dropping my bags by the door. "Zack, are you home?"  
  
He wouldn't go out the one night his beloved girlfriend comes home from L.A. He couldn't. Logan's more sensitive than to send him out on an Eyes Only gig the same night I get back; Logan lives with Max. He knows how physical a relationship with an X5 is. Between two X5s, more than half our relationship consists of touching of some kind.  
  
Preferably the dirty kind.  
  
"Jondy." Zack comes out of the kitchen, looking tired. "Jon." In three strides, he had me cradled against him, holding me tightly. "No way in hell am I ever letting you go again."  
  
I wrapped my arms around his neck. "You missed me, I presume?" I asked coyly, kissing him gently.  
  
Well, I started it gently. He continued it a bit more roughly. I'm not sure how Zack managed, but he managed to get me sitting on the kitchen table, with my jeans unbuttoned and around my knees.  
  
"It's been way too long," Zack almost growled at me.  
  
I laughed, kicking my jeans off and pulling him closer to me, kissing him deeply. "God I missed you," I breathed. Zack scooped me up into his arms and carried me off to the bedroom.  
  
Where I totally made good on my promise.

* * *

"Dee... Dee, wake up."  
  
I moaned lightly, rolling onto my side. Okay, so after a week of 3am nights and one entire 24 hour period of driving, a girl needs her sleep. Desperately.  
  
"What's wrong? Is the world ending?" I moaned, curling up against his body, burying my face in his shoulder.  
  
"I've gotta go to work," Zack replied, tenderly smoothing my hair.  
  
"Do you absolutely have to?" I asked, pressing against him harder.  
  
"I do. I should be home about six. Logan and Max are having a family dinner tonight."  
  
I nodded sleepily. "I should be awake then," I replied drowsily, slowly drifting off to sleep.  
  
I heard Zack chuckle and mutter, 'like a kitten,' under his breath before I went straight back to sleep. For another five hours.  
  
It was wonderful being back at the loft. I showered and changed into a tank top and sweat pants, and then went and made myself pancakes, and ate them with chocolate syrup and ice cream, which Fiona never let me do.  
  
I went down stairs and lugged all my boxes and bags back up to the apartment, putting all my new clothes and shower away. Man, I had done some shopping while I was in L.A.  
  
But then, all girls need five pairs of flared hipster jeans with diamantes down the seam. And Max and I are almost the same size - when she's not pregnant and all - so maybe she can have a pair or two when she's had the baby.  
  
And Brin can have one of my three black skirts.  
  
Syl likes tank tops. And boots.  
  
God, I feel like a personal shopper. By the time my sisters go through my new clothes, I won't have anything new left for myself.  
  
But having a whole day to myself when I've been away the entire summer wasn't the most fun you'd think it was.  
  
Zack was home at about six and I was ready to go to Max's, I was so bored. I'd checked my email - a couple of junk emails and one from Fiona, wanting to know if I'd made it to Seattle okay, but not wanting to call and interrupt any reuniting between me and Zack.  
  
Smart girl.  
  
"Zack!" I practically threw myself at him, my arms wrapping around him.  
  
"Whoa!" Zack said, his hands settling on my hips. "Happy to see me, I take it?"  
  
"I think it's totally evil that you had to work my first day back in Seattle," I replied. "Suppose you can make it up to me tonight."  
  
"After we have dinner at Logan's," Zack ran his fingers through my hair.  
  
I pouted. "You know I want to see Maxie and everyone, but..."  
  
"Don't finish that thought, Jon," Zack pulled my arms from around his neck. "Or we'll be very late. Now I need to shower."  
  
"Want some help?" I asked archly.  
  
"Jon," Zack said in a warning voice.  
  
"Okay, okay, I'll be good!" I said, beginning to giggle. "I'm ready, so I'm going to watch TV."  
  
When Manticore created Zack, I swear that they added this special DNA which makes him great in bed, and have the ability to have ridiculously quick showers. Just as I found an interesting television show (I love the Law and Order shows. Ooh, maybe I could become, like, a psychologist...) Zack was ready to go.  
  
We took Zack's bike. M-an. Maybe I am going into heat again, because all I can think about is getting into Zack's pants again. And again, and again.  
  
And maybe some more.  
  
"Jondy!" Max was talking to Brin when we arrived. And she practically leapt across the room, throwing her arms around me.  
  
"Max!" I hugged her tightly and then pulled back. "You're pregnant!"  
  
Max beamed at me, resting her hand on her swollen stomach. "In four months, there will be another Guevara-Cale in the world."  
  
"Or two," Logan said with a grin. "There's a small chance it's twins. Good to see you back in Seattle, Jondy." Logan leant over and kissed my cheek. "It's been quiet without you around."  
  
"I resent that comment!" Syl appeared at my side, grinning wildly. "I can be noisy and wild when I want to be."  
  
"Am I considered crazy and wild?" I asked, as I hugged Syl.  
  
"Sometimes," Syl shrugged, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "It's been deeply boring since you ran off to L.A. Any hot doctors?"  
  
"One," I winked at her.  
  
"Excellent," Syl grinned. "Maybe I should become a doctor." Krit whacked Syl gently on the back of her head as he came over.  
  
"When did you get back?" Krit asked me, slinging his arm around Syl's shoulders.  
  
"Last night," I replied. "The freeway was a total bitch."  
  
"Last night?" Krit smirked at me. "So that's why Zack's cell was off." Zack looked away.  
  
I stuck my tongue out at Krit. "As if you wouldn't have turned your phone off in the same circumstances, Krittens."  
  
Syl smirked. "Ask Krit what happened last time he left his phone on while he and I were... getting friendly."  
  
Krit looked at his shoes. "I thought you said you wouldn't ever mention that again," he muttered at Syl. Syl smiled angelically and kissed him.  
  
"I'll get the wine. Rain took Evie off to the movies, they should be back soon. "Brin, Tinga and Zane are in the lounge room; Zane's been dying to talk to you." Max grabbed my hand and dragged me off to Zane, apparently. For a pregnant woman, Max was awfully strong.  
  
"Zane! Jondy's home!" Max grinned. Zane looked up, grinning at me. Tinga and Brin instantly stood up, hugged me and followed Max back into the kitchen. Zane and I are always having deep and meaningfuls. We've always been close; while Zack had to watch out for the entire squadron, Zane looked out for me.  
  
"Jon, I've missed you!" Zane wraps me in a bear hug. "How was L.A.?"  
  
"L.A. like," I shrug, dropping onto the couch next to him. "How have you been going?"  
  
Zane shrugged and picked up a bottle of beer. "Things have been interesting. Rain's applying to college, wants to become a social worker. I'm happy with that; she good with all sorts of people, she got good marks all through high school and she's transgenic, which means she can work with Nomalies and X series."  
  
"Rain? I didn't think she liked school much. I never pegged her for one to sign on for three more years of school," I shrugged. "That girl will always surprise me."  
  
"Yeah," Zane looked at me. "Jon, you know I don't like asking..."  
  
"You need money for Rain and the college deal?" I asked simply, taking his beer.  
  
"Quite a bit," Zane admitted. "Being a mechanic isn't exactly a high paying job and higher education in Seattle..."  
  
"Point the bills in my direction," I patted Zane's arm. "You look after your girl."  
  
"I will pay you back, Jon," Zane promised. "I swear. It might take awhile."  
  
I waved his promises off. "Just rebuild my BMW for me and all will be forgotten. I'm talking new air conditioning, new brakes, a DVD, CD player, satellite navigational system... the whole lot."  
  
Zane grinned at me. "You know you can get all that stuff for a couple of bucks, right, and install it yourself?"  
  
"Yeah," I shrugged. "But I can't stand the work involved with it. You redo my car, I'll pay for your daughter's college fees."  
  
"Rain's not my daughter," Zane reminded me absently. "I'm barely ten years her senior."  
  
"Minor details," I rolled my eyes. "You gave her a home, an education, a family. I think that counts as father-daughter-ship."  
  
"Yeah, I guess," Zane said doubtfully. Then he looked at me. "You look really hot, Jon. L.A obviously agreed with you."  
  
"Oh, you mean the eighteen hour shifts I had? The weekends I'd work from six in the morning on Friday straight through till midnight Monday?" I rolled my eyes. "It was a killer. I swear I almost didn't live through it."  
  
"Poor angel," Zane punched my shoulder gently. "I'm sure being in the shopping capital of America was a harsh, horrible place for you, Jon."  
  
"She could take a second job as a personal shopper," Zack appeared by my shoulder. "The loft looks like a sample sale."  
  
"How do you know about sample sales?" Brin gave Zack a funny look.  
  
"When my credit card bill came back with five hundred dollars and ninety eight cents at a Prada sample sale, I wanted to know what I'd invested in," Zack said pointedly.  
  
"It wasn't Prada," I said defensively. "It was in the Prada building."  
  
"What did you buy then?" Zack asked, giving me a pointed look.  
  
"Boots," Brin grinned at me.  
  
"I'd have to say you bought boots there, too," Syl grinned.  
  
I pouted. "You think I spent five hundred dollars on a seventh pair of boots?"  
  
"Sixth," Tinga grinned sheepishly. "I really liked your black leather ones so I kept them."  
  
"Fifth," Max butted it. "Jace took the purple suede ones."  
  
I bit my lip. "Huh. So I only have four pairs of boots?"  
  
"Yeah," Brin said.  
  
"Okay then," I stood up with a bright smile.  
  
"What did you buy Jondy?" Zack commanded.  
  
"A new pair of Prada boots. I mean, I've only got four pairs, I needed new boots," I said angelically.  
  
Zack rolled his eyes. "Five hundred dollars for boots?" he said.  
  
"And a leather jacket. And the cutest little red skirt for Brin. And some make up," I shrugged. "The usual."  
  
"That's the usual?" Krit said faintly.  
  
"Thank god I can't stand large crowds and salesgirls," Syl shrugged.  
  
"My credit card thanks them," Krit said, kissing Syl's cheek.  
  
"Once you have kids," Logan said, his arm around Max's shoulders, "A whole new world of shopping opens up."  
  
"Kids?" Krit said faintly.  
  
"Kids," Zack echoed, looking slightly pale.  
  
A grin spread across my face. "Sex."  
  
"Jon, please stop over-sharing about your sex life," Brin said. "Please. For the love of me not ending up in therapy, stop."  
  
"It's not like you're not getting any, Brinny..." I began.  
  
"JONDY!"  
  
"Okay, okay, I'll stop," I said, leaning against Zack.  
  
"If only we could believe you," Zane said with a grin.

* * *

Rain and Evie came home a bit later, in time for dinner. Evie flung herself into my arms, absolutely thrilled to see me (maybe that was partially the birthday present I gave her.)  
  
Rain wasn't so thrilled to see me. But then, she didn't look like her usual upbeat self. Her once red hair had been molested into this dark chocolate-y brown color with bright blue tips. Anymore make up on her face and she'd suffocate. She just didn't look her usual happy self anymore.  
  
I volunteered to help clean up the kitchen with Rain, to make sure everything was okay. When she was younger, she and I were close. A long time passed since then, and I know we're not close anymore. Friends, but not 'sisters'.  
  
She looked preoccupied as she stacked the dishwasher. Okay, so this bonding session was up to me...  
  
"Heard you're going to be a social worker," I said casually, rinsing some plates.  
  
"Yeah," she replied unenthusiastically.  
  
"Where are you going to college?" I pressed.  
  
"The community college," she replied.  
  
"Cool. You should have fun and get a half decent job," I nodded. Rain straightened and span around.  
  
"Don't talk like that!" she said. "You don't know what it's like! Manticore and then being with Ordinaries. High school finishing and now I'm forced to go to college, and study harder stuff for another three years. You don't know what it's like to be alone, trying to study enough to pass but work enough hours..."  
  
"Rain, it's me. I worked in bars to get myself through one year of high school before dropping out, put myself through two years of community college, got engaged, got dumped, put myself through medical school and got a boyfriend. It is hard work, but nothing worth having isn't," I said.  
  
Rain glared at me. "But you X5s were built to be quick learners. It takes time for me to learn stuff. Zane barely earns living expenses – I bet he hit you up for the college fees cause there's no way he'll leave his beloved garage to actually earn a living."  
  
"Zane took you in off the street," I interrupted. "You're an X series, you can be self sufficient if you chose to be."  
  
Rain stared back at me. "You're all family. Zane's playing Daddy, you're playing Big Sister. I am not your family. I'm not related to any of you in any way."  
  
I stared at her. Who was this person? Not the Rain I left behind. "It's more than blood, Rain. I don't know exactly what's going on in your head, but we are your family, no matter who you are or what X series you were apart of. Zane saved your ass. I'm definitely not your big sister, but I am your friend."  
  
Rain looked away. "I know."  
  
"You want to talk now?" I offered.  
  
"No."  
  
"Okay then," I said, shutting the dishwasher. "Maybe another time then."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
And I left Rain in the kitchen. I remember being a teenager; it was a bitch, honestly. I sort of feel sorry for Rain. Not much I can do for her unless she wants to talk to me.  
  
I grabbed my glass of wine and went back to the lounge room, where everyone was talking about Max and Logan's baby.  
  
"...so, are you excited?" Brin asked, with a grin. "I am! It's the first niece or nephew I'll actually be a proper aunt to."  
  
"I'm tired," Max said honestly. "Tired and hungry all the time. I just want to sleep through the night. Normal told me to get some herbal sleeping pills."  
  
"Those can be risky, Max," I said, sitting in Zack's lap. "Try some sort of herbal tea. It tastes totally nasty, but I hear it works."  
  
"I'll track some down for you tomorrow, Max," Logan stroked her hair.  
  
"What's it like having a baby?" Syl asked thoughtfully.  
  
"Stop. Stop that thought right now," Krit said, pulling on Syl's hair. "Can we change the subject?"  
  
"It hurts like hell," Max said. "I almost broke Jondy's hand when I was having Evie."  
  
"Aunt Jondy was there?" Evie appeared in the doorway. "Where was Daddy?"  
  
"Running around like a chicken who had lost it's head," Alec grinned.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "I remember that night well. My hand was black and blue for days."  
  
"And Logan went pale when Max actually had Evie. Krit and Syl were caught making out in the broom closet and Zack and Jondy tried to have sex in the janitor's closet but got caught," Alec leant back. "Those were good times."  
  
"And you got drunk and ended up having sex with that blonde nurse in the dispensary," Max shot back. "Don't think I don't know. That nurse walked around starry eyed for days."  
  
"What can I say?" Alec grinned. "Women love me." Brin socked him in the shoulder.  
  
"No violence," Zack held up his hand.  
  
"When are you and Jondy going to reproduce?" Krit said with a grin.  
  
"We're not," Zack said bluntly. "Don't get any ideas."  
  
Excuse me? We're not... having children? Ever?  
  
Breathe and smile, Jondy. Laugh and just look natural. Breathe in and out and don't kill Zack. You so do not want blood on these jeans. Blood does not come out of suede.   
  
Zack said we weren't having children. Ever? God. God! I want kids. And apparently, Zack never wants... oh my god. I cannot believe we never discussed this. Ever, not even before.  
  
I need chocolate. And sex. They always cheer me up.  
  
"Jon, we should probably go," Zack's hands rested on my hips.  
  
"The sector police slapped us with a five hundred fine for being home ten minutes after curfew," Zane rolled his eyes. "It's getting ridiculous."  
  
"I'll hack into the police mainframe tomorrow, Zane, and delete than fine for you," Logan said.  
  
"I'll do it," I said sweetly. "I need to use my hacking skills for something."  
  
"Won't you be too busy working at Metro Medical to bother with hacking?" Tinga asked, surprised. "I thought you'd transfer right to work in one of Seattle's hospital."  
  
I shook my head. "Nah. I'm taking a break for a few weeks. Then, maybe I'll apply at Metro Medical or maybe a private practice," I shrugged. "I just need a rest for awhile."  
  
I stood up and Zack grabbed my wrist. "You're not going back to medicine, Dee?"  
  
"Their first lovers' tiff," Alec grinned. "So cute!"  
  
"Yeah, just not at the moment. I didn't study for so long just to give it up once I've finished it," I said. "Give me a week or two and I'll get a job."  
  
Zack shrugged and his arm slung around her waist. "Whatever makes you happy."  
  
"That was a boring argument," Syl pouted. "I was hoping for tears and torment."  
  
"Lovely," Max said. "You want Jondy and Zack to have a huge fight?"

"It wouldn't have been tears or torment either," Alec shook his head. "It would've been a full on fist fight. That would've been cool."  
  
"We have to go," Zack said, "talk to you tomorrow?"  
  
"Of course," Max said with a grin.  
  
"Hey, Jon," Alec called out, his arms around Brin. "Are you still Ms Jondy De Luca or Dr Jondy De Luca?"  
  
"Still Miss Jondy De Luca," I shrugged. "I flaunt my 'unmarried' status with pride."  
  
"And?" Brin asked.  
  
I shrugged. "This is Seattle. People rip you off when they think you're earning doctor's wages."

* * *

It was a quiet ride back to the loft; this time I was driving, Zack was trying to unzip my jeans – go him – and I wasn't exactly trying to stop him. Hell, I was encouraging him. I seriously think undoing my jeans while I was driving is a seriously marketable skill for Zack. I wonder if it was a part of Manticore training I missed for some reason.  
  
We pulled up outside Zack's building and Zack had his hand up my shirt and my jeans had started to obey the laws of gravity. Damnit, I think Zack broke the zip.  
  
"Inside?" Zack whispered in my ear, his arms around my waist.  
  
"Hell yes," I said, pulling his face down to mine for another kiss.  
  
Another one of Zack's never ending list of marketable skills is managing to juggle me when I'm feeling frisky, his motorcycle and get us back to the loft. I don't remember much between the street and the bedroom (well, except the good parts. I lost my jeans somewhere between the street and the elevator. They were nice jeans, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.) Zack lost his shirt.  
  
It was a damn good night, actually.  
  
I couldn't sleep though. Zack crashed like a total guy (sometimes he is a total guy – food, sex, sleep. Usually he was caring and sensitive and cool, but sometimes he went into guy-mode.) I lay awake for what felt like hours. I just could not sleep.  
  
Zack did not want kids. He wanted us to be together? Just a couple. No children. I want children. I mean, not in the next nine months. Hell no. I'm not that responsible yet. But I did want a baby one day. Obviously Zack didn't.  
  
I slipped out of bed, pulling on my robe and going out to the lounge room and curling up on the couch and switching on the television. We so should talk more. We don't talk enough. Communication is something we seriously need to work on.  
  
Good god, what is on television at one in the morning? Porn, infomercial, porn, porn, infomercial, porn, porn, porn, infomercial... geez. Sixty six channels of unadulterated crap.  
  
"Jon?"  
  
Zack appeared in the door way, looking something like a sleepy bear. "Jon? What are you doing up?"  
  
He came over and sat on the lounge next to me, his arm snaking around my shoulders.  
  
"You know I don't sleep," I said, settling on an average looking art house movie and tossing the controls on the coffee table.  
  
"I also know you don't watch television after midnight," Zack said, kissing my neck. "Something about porn and infomercials."  
  
"For your information," I said, shoving him off, "I was watching this wonderful, informative film."  
  
"Really?" Zack said doubtfully.  
  
"Yup," I said stubbornly, focusing on the screen. "I love this movie. It taught me so many life lessons." We both watched the movie for a few moments.  
  
"Oh my god," I said, my eyes widening.  
  
"Can an Ordinary actually bend like that?" Zack asked.  
  
"Zack, I can't bend like that," I said, wide eyed. "There is no way she can really be doing that. It has to be CGI."  
  
Zack was staring at the screen, his mouth in a perfect 'o'. "Damn. And I mean, d-amn..." he said quietly. I whacked him across the chest.  
  
"Oh, grow up," I said, grabbing the television controls and turned off the television. "We have to get cable."  
  
"So we can have sixty six more channels playing porn or infomercials?" Zack asked dubiously as I got up and went to the kitchen. "Want to talk?"  
  
"About what?" I said, grabbing a soda.  
  
"Jon, it's one in the morning, you're watching a questionable French movie and drinking soda. You never stay home when you're awake at night," Zack said, watching as I balanced on the arm of the couch, sipping my soda.  
  
"So?" I said, looking at the red color of the soda in the tin. Hmm. Probably not the best thing to drink when I wanted to sleep.  
  
"Jondy, something is bothering you. I want to help if I can," Zack stood up.  
  
I sighed and put the soda can on the coffee table. "When we were at Max's... you said... you said we weren't going to have kids. We never talked about that but I don't like you to presume that I don't want kids. I do. I really want children with you." I looked at the floor. "And we've never ever discussed us having children before, like properly."  
  
"Jon," Zack sighed, pulling me to my feet and hugging me. "When I said we weren't having kids, I didn't mean ever. I meant we're not at the moment because we just got into this relationship. We can talk about it when we're both ready. But at the moment... you and I need to spend time together before we make decisions like that. Okay?"  
  
I leant against him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I love you, you know that right?"  
  
Zack grinned at me. "I know. But... if you wanted to try some of those things in the movie..."  
  
"Like gratitude?" I smirked.  
  
"I wouldn't complain," Zack said, grabbing me around the waist.  
  
Make up sex is the best. Especially when we weren't fighting in the first place.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Writing Jondy is so much fun. I really enjoy it. I actually have to hand in this fic (as a WIP) and PissOff as school assignment in a month, so I'd really appreciate any critiscm on either fic. Really. Just hit the review button and say, "I read it." And I'll seriously be happy. 


	3. Back in the Game

**Author's Notes:** Finally, Chapter 3. I've overcome horrendous writer's block and exams to finally get this up. I hope everyone enjoys it, and reviews it :) Reviews motivate me.

To Rose, for being wonderfully patient :D Hope college is rocking!

* * *

Lydecker was missing.

That was the information I was presented with the next day. Not instantly, of course, because Zack hates telling me anything relating to my physical safety and that man. Manticore is still a tense subject between us; any of us. Possibly the most well adjusted is Max. Which is really, really ironic. But it was Logan that informed me that my own personal anti-Christ had vanished off the Eyes Only radar.

So, anyway, I spent the morning in bed eating doughnuts and reading the paper; ignorant bliss. I like this not-having-a-job. It was like eleven when I got out of bed. Lazy week days rock.

I was in the kitchen, attempting to make pancakes and listening to the radio when the phone rang.

"Hello... shit...?" I said, as I dropped a carton of eggs onto my foot. "Damnit."

"Hey Jon. Having fun? I thought Zack had to work today," Logan said, as I balanced the phone on my shoulder.

"Hey Logan. I'm having the most fun ever. And yes, Zack had to work. You don't need a man to have fun," I said, kneeling down to pick up the egg shells. "Wait. That came out wrong."

Logan laughed. "I called because I thought you might be lonely on your own. Max insists on helping Syl and Brin out at the gallery."

"I can just imagine how dangerous the gallery would be with Max there," I made a face, even though I knew Logan couldn't see me, and began scraping the raw egg off the kitchen floor and into the bin. "Is she as bad as she was when she was pregnant with Evie?"

"Worse," Logan replied. "But I thought you could come round and I could catch you up on everything that has been happening. Maybe make you lunch?"

I dropped the spoon I was using to scrape the raw egg and up sat back, leaning against the cupboards. "Give me thirty minutes to take a shower and I'll be there. Lunch sounds great."

"Pasta or egg salad?" Logan said. "Your choice."

I looked at the gooey raw egg on the floor next to me. "Pasta sounds great."

"Great. See you in half an hour."

Perfect. Thirty minutes to finish cleaning up the kitchen, shower and get to Logan's. I reached for a cloth off the kitchen bench and began to mop up the last of the raw egg. Ugh.

- - -

"That was great, Logan," I said, taking a final bite of the cake he had made. "It rocks not to have to eat take out. I swear I'm like a fast food connoisseur."

"Didn't Tinga teach you and Zack to cook?" Logan said, stacking the plates.

"Sort of," I shrugged. "Anyway, you told me you'd give me the 411 on what I missed. Share the wealth, my brother."

"Well," Logan said, motioning for me to follow him into the lounge room, "let me think."

"Don't think," I said warningly, flopping down in a chair. "Thinking equals censoring and I don't want censoring; I want all the nitty gritty details."

"Brin and Alec have started a somewhat functional relationship," Logan replied. "Krit swears on Ben's grave that he walked in one night to find Brin..."

My eyes widened as Logan paused. "Oh my god. Brinny ... what did she do?!" Thousands of lurid mental images filled my mind. Whoa. That was more me than Brin. Brin was not into kinky. But I guess Alec managed to change her into a wild girl.

"She was cooking him dinner," Logan finished. "Like an old married couple."

My mouth fell open in shock and I threw a couch cushion at Logan. "I thought she was ... Alec and her were...!"

"I know," Logan smirked. "Zack's right, you are easy... to joke around with, I mean."

I raised my eyebrows. "I hope so. Otherwise I'm worried about what you and Zack talk about."

"We don't," Logan said simply. "The only times Zack and I talk is when he's doing EO jobs for me."

I gave Logan a look. "You two should talk. You have a lot in common," I said softly. "Maxie and I care about you both."

Logan nodded and got up, walking over to his computer. "You're preaching to the converted. Old habits are hard to break. Three years of hating Zack..."

"I get it," I shrugged. "Things aren't exactly always peachy between Krit and I. You just deal and move on. I care about Krit but we don't talk enough to say we talk."

Logan sat at his computer, swivelling his chair to face me. "You've got complicated relationships, Jondy. Why don't you and Krit talk?"

"The others have it pegged as sibling rivalry; same age and stuff. I don't know," I shrugged. "Anyway, how's Evie? And what's up with Rain?"

"Evie's great," Logan grinned like the proud dad he was. "She's just started singing lessons; a birthday present. As for Rain, I think the fact she's going to college and she's no longer a little kid tagging along with Zane has finally hit her."

I nodded. "She didn't seem her usual, happy self. I just had it pegged for boyfriend troubles, maybe."

"After she starts college, maybe she'll settle down," Logan shrugged. "And I've just thought of something I should tell you, because I bet Zack won't tell you."

"Share the wealth. Ooh, is it a Gucci sale? Zack would never tell me that. He doesn't think I need anymore clothes," I leant forward, eagerly.

"Sorry to spoil your fun, Jondy, but it's nothing like that," Logan turned to his computer. "Remember how we knew where Lydecker was all summer?"

"I vaguely remember Alec mentioning that he was making Lydecker jump through hoops," I said. "Ooh, are we upgrading to flaming hoops? Jump, Deck, jump!"

"Not quite. He's vanished," Logan handed me a piece of paper; a print out of all of Lydecker's phone calls. "The last twenty calls made on his cell phone. Seven of them were in America. Six of them were made to Germany and the final seven were made to Russia. But I can't find out exactly where the phone calls were made to. Scrambled signals."

"Bugger," I said, looking over the list. "So, are you going to keep an eye on this?"

"I'm going to try. Anyway, I thought you could have a look around on the internet," Logan said. "It's not that I don't trust Lydecker..."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," I quoted, skimming down the list of phone numbers. "I don't recognize any of them, but yeah I'll check them out for you."

"Great," Logan smiled at me. "Having another great Manticore mind on the case might bring something up. The odds are that he's just gone into hiding again, but just to be on the safe side..."

I shrugged. "Maybe it's because he severed my spine when I was six, but when Lydecker isn't checking in with us, I start to think he'd using his powers for evil again."

"Thanks for that wonderful mental image, Jondy," Logan looked away. "And you might not want to mention that I told you about Lydecker to Zack. He didn't want you involved., but... Jondy, I have a bad feeling. I don't think its fair not to tell you what the others know in case this nothing turns into something."

I nodded, folding the piece of paper and slipping it into my back pocket. "I'll worry about Zack. I get where you're both coming from. And this way, I get to go gun shopping."

Logan started to laugh. "Always rely on an X5 girl to put a positive spin on things. Oh! And, also, this is something I want to ask you rather than Zack. It's not really Zack's thing," Logan said, flipping through the papers on his desk, obviously looking for something.

"Oh?" I stood up and looked over his shoulder. "Logan, I don't really want to be running missions for EO. It's nothing personal., it's just that that's Max's thing and Zack's thing." And Zack's kinda territorial. Syl borrowed his bike while I was in L.A, and he bitched about it for weeks.

"No," Logan shook his head and found what he was looking for. "My Aunt Margot holds this charity ball every year. It's $250 a ticket – half of which is donated to a worthwhile charity and the rest which my Aunt Margot keeps. Anyway, Aunt Margot invited us all and I wanted to know if you and Zack wanted to come. Max and I are going, so are Syl and Krit. Tinga's talking Zane around slowly."

I bit my lip. "Zack hates getting dressed up. And he hates dances and dinner and large groups of people. But I think it sounds like fun. Count us in," I said.

"Great," Logan said, holding out two multi-coloured tickets. "Eight o clock. I can't remember the date, but I know it's on the invitation."

I looked at the invitations. "Excellent. I better get going. I've got a pile of laundry I have to do before Zack gets home. And a credit card bill to destroy."

"I'll talk to you later," Logan replied. "Email me if you find anything about Lydecker's location. I want to know what he ate for breakfast last Tuesday. Something's up."

I pulled my jacket on. "It would be. Max is about to have a baby and Rain's in the middle of a teenage angst crisis. Not exactly the best time for a war on good old Deckers."

Logan gave me a funny look.

"Just pretend I didn't say that."

"Gotcha."

* * *

So the trace-Lydecker plan didn't really go to plan. I sat down with my laptop, in front of some talk show on TV, and seriously planned to track him down. But the talk show was on long term relationships and how you should spice things up for your partner.

I am such a pathetic hormone-driven piece of trash. I made my plan – skimpy red dress Zack had seen me in – and out of - when I was a teenager, smoky eye make up and an exceptionally fun afternoon. Of course, the credit card bill still existed, the laundry was still dirty and Zack would be home in about an hour...

And, almost precisely an hour later, I heard the front door slam. Looking in the mirror, I groaned, before continuing the seemingly impossible task at hand.

"Jon, you home?" Zack called out.

"Ye-es! Just a second!" I called out, waving my mascara wand around. "Ow. Ow." I said, poking myself in the eye. Ugh. This had not gone to plan. The plan was to greet Zack looking like a beautiful, sexy, adoring girlfriend and have mind blowing sex all afternoon and just having some us time. Okay, so I'm feeling like I need some bonding time with Zack. I so do not need to justify having sex.

So, I did my laundry and shrunk my brand new t shirt. Then I squeezed into the little red number and ended up looking like a 1980s hooker.

Now I was wearing a tiny black skirt I couldn't bend over in, a push up bra and black heels. I couldn't find my see through shirt to go over my bra, my hair looked like a dead rat and my make up did not look good.

"This sucks," I said, throwing down the mascara wand. "I should be good at this damnit."

"Good at what?" Zack appeared behind me, his hands balancing on my hips.

"Good at the whole make up thing," I said, pouting. "I'm trying to..."

"That's what I'm trying to work out," Zack said, spinning me around. "You don't need to do this, Jon. You don't need it."

"Thanks," I said, nuzzling his cheek. "But I just wanted to try and make it nice for you."

Zack took at step backwards and evaluated my attire. "Lose the skirt and you've got it right," he said, almost teasing me. I punched him playfully on the arm.

"Shut up," I said. "You're a big meanie."

Zack stroked my cheek and leant down to kiss me, pulling me closer, my arms winding around his neck. We stood there for the longest time, just kissing like the old days, before things were complicated with sex and stuff. You know, for a minute, I almost felt like that teenage girl he first hooked up with in Chicago.

I pulled back gently, biting my lip. "Hey Zack," I said, as he started to unzip my skirt. Thank god, I think my legs were losing circulation. As he began to kiss his way down my neck, I knew it was time to make my move.

"Mmm?"

"What would you say if I said we were going to some ball Logan's aunt is giving."

"You have to be joking."

"Wow, Zane's right, you really do sound like an old woman when you say that," I said teasingly.

"J-on," Zack whined. I know. Zack and whined in the same sentence. But seriously, Zack is the only guy in the world who can turn my shortened name into two syllables. It's a talent. He calls me Jon when he wants something and Dee when he's feeling particularly vulnerable or particularly romantic. Or particularly horny. Whichever comes first.

"We'll have fun," I said, kicking the skirt from around my ankles and walking into the bedroom, sitting on the bed. "Free champagne, free dinner, dancing. Me in a revealing yet stylishly sexy dress. Sex afterwards. And it's for charity..." I pouted at Zack. "Sex for charity. A win-win situation."

Zack sighed, unbuttoning his shirt. "Go shower. I'll think about it." He turned around and left the bedroom.

"Hey!" I yelled. "I wasn't going to have a shower!"

Zack returned, a tiny smile playing around his mouth. "You need to wash all that make up off and wash your hair. Then we'll discuss the ball dance thing."

"Sometimes, you're an ass," I said, pouting some more. When my statement was met with silence (which I'm absolutely positive was agreement), I got up and had the stupid shower. Zack is so evil. The fact he came and joined me in the shower after I washed my hair does not make him any less evil.

"So," I said, sitting on the edge of the bath, wrapped in a towel, watching Zack shave, "take me to the ball? Cause I'm sure Normal would be a willing escort if you don't want to..."

"I'll take you, Jondy," Zack said, looking at me through the mirror.

I beamed. "Good. Now, I'm going shopping."

Zack put down his razor. "Why, exactly?"

"Because I need ..." I faltered. "Um..."

"Why don't you get a job?" Zack said. "Give you an aim each day."

I nodded slowly. "Probably an idea. But do you really want me to get a job at the hospital? I mean, yeah, okay money. But every time we're in bed – together..."

"One would hope so," Zack said dryly.

"Well, my pager would go off just as you... it would create sexual tension between us," I said. "Maybe I could just go and work off some of Brin and Syl's debt down at Jam Pony."

"Brin and Syl owe Normal seven years of unpaid full time work – each - for the money they owe," Zack said, turning around to face me. "Why don't you go and get an actual job for Normal?"

"Because working off my sisters' debt is more soul satisfying?" I asked angelically.

"Meaning you won't feel the need to justify every sick day you take, as you're not really working for Normal."

"You know me too well," I said, getting up and trying to loosen the towel that was around his waist. It wasn't hanging nearly low enough for my tastes.

Zack caught my hands. "I need to get some work done, Dee."

I smiled, a genuine smile, at him. "Dee, huh?"

"Huh?"

"I love you," I said, kissing him gently. His hands ran through my wet hair as he kissed me back. He pulled away gently and looked into my eyes.

"It's for good this time," he said softly, threading his fingers through mine. I nodded slowly.

"For good."

It's always good when your boyfriend throws caution to the wind to have sex on the bathroom floor. While any sex, any time is good and no one can convince me otherwise, the bathroom floor is not the best location; it's cold, wet and my hair kept getting caught on the drain.

I know I can be really flippant about Zack and our relationship and sex but really, I think this time it was our real, deep feelings. He didn't take his eyes off me once.

"I love you, Jondy," Zack lay on his side, next to me on the bathroom floor, one leg between mine and his hands playing with my hair.

"I love you too," I said, kissing him gently and sitting up. "You need to do some work."

Zack rolled over and sat up, his hand on my shoulder. "Do I get a choice?" he asked darkly.

"Nope," I smirked, finding my sweats and tank top stuffed down the towel rail. "I've gotta look something up for Logan."

Zack looked up from where he was pulling his own clothes from behind the laundry basket. "Logan?"

"Mm hmm," I said, pulling my tank top over my head. "Just some phone numbers he wants traced. Nothing major."

Zack handed me my hairbrush as he left the bathroom. "I'll be working on a case in the office if you need me."

"Thanks," I said, pulling my hairbrush through my tangled hair. "What case are you working on?"

Zack gave me a Look. "You know my cases are confidential."

I returned his Look. I read his case files over breakfast some days. And Zack's seen me reading them with my coffee.

"Young woman was found murdered in an alley way. We're trying to prove she was murdered by the sector cops who found her," Zack said, leaning on the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And those are the people we trust to protect our fair city," I said wryly, twisting my hair up and fastening it with a pin. "Having any luck?"

"The family already had her body cremated, so we're working from photos," Zack said, straightening. "Finish doing your hair, I'll get the file."

I nodded, tossing my hair brush into the bathroom drawer and picked up the wet towels and threw them into the laundry hamper. Great. More laundry for me to shrink.

Zack's office was one of those rooms I absolutely never bothered to go into unless I was trying to... borrow his credit card. Zack kept his entire wallet in the office because he knew I wouldn't go near the room. Unless under extreme circumstances. And yes, a shoe sale is an extreme circumstance.

I didn't break this tradition. Zack's still a guy and I seriously do not want to know what he's got in that room. I'm sure everything's organized; I mean, it is Zack's office, but it sure as hell doesn't look like it.

I opened my laptop, setting it on the kitchen table and plugging it in. I had to look up those phone numbers for Logan. Without Zack working out what I was doing. Hmm.

"Here's the file," Zack said, flipping open the manila folder and pulling out photos of a young woman lying on concrete. I winced. A bullet wound to her upper left chest and bruising around her throat.

"So, doctor, what's the verdict?" Zack asked as I flicked through the photos in the file. They were all of her injuries, how her body lay on the concrete.

"Well," I said, motioning to the bruising on the girl's throat. "She died from asphyxiation - strangulation; that's why the bruising is all whacked out. The bullet wound is too close to her shoulder to have been fatal unless it was a few hours old... but the blood stains are still fresh... so, she was strangled to death."

Zack nodded, looking over the photos. "So, I just need to find evidence that it was the sector cops who strangled her?"

"Yup," I said, shuffling the photos together. "Ask Logan about hovercraft footage, maybe?"

"Yeah, I'll talk to Cale later. What are you working on?" Zack asked, looking at my laptop's screen.

"Nothing special," I said, handing him his folder. "Go, work on your case. I need time to download porn and send death threats."

Zack smacked me on the back of the head and left the kitchen. Okay, so where was Lydecker hiding?

It took me fifteen minutes until I managed to pull up the Russian Institute of Genetic Science and Testing, with a freaky looking unicorn and girl logo. Russian genetics. Why was Lydecker involved with Russian genetics? I tried hacking into the internal server, but the whole site was completely fire walled. Which wasn't exactly promising.

I sat back, staring blankly at the screen. Russian genetics. Had Lydecker gotten himself another job in a totally different country? Give him diplomatic immunity from both sides, really. And he could stop going into hiding for months at a time.

I tapped at my keyboard for a moment, trying to break through the fire wall. And a login box came up. Damnit. I knew these places. They tracked your ISP and location, and found you out if you got the login name or password wrong. And I hated reading the JavaScript code – which is how you worked out the password and login name in the first place.

It wasn't hard, actually. Rudimentary JavaScript isn't. Login name... lydeckdo... password x5452x5599. He is so easy to figure out. Max and Zack always were his favourites. And I was in. A much cooler site if you logged in... I could access network files, download stats and the plans they had...

And they had plans. Big, elaborate plans, not dissimilar to Manticore. These Russians wanted to design the perfect soldier, yes, but they wanted perfect human beings at the same time. Immune to disease, fastest, strongest and smartest...

I bit my lip and took a screenshot of the document before moving on, and running a search through the database for 'Lydecker'... nothing, just a spreadsheet with salaries. I tried again, running a search on 'Manticore'. A few hits, but nothing significant. I leant back in my chair and then typed in, 'X5'.

Three files. I opened them and, honestly, it felt like someone had thrown water over my head. Words jumped out at me from the screen. 'Recapture', 'retrain', 'experiment', and, the one thing that made me feel sick to my stomach, 'X5-599'.

I couldn't make sense of much else in that document. I am not one to get hysterical, but... Zack. He's been back to Manticore too many times in his life; I was not going to lose him to the bad guys again.

I grabbed my cell phone off of the counter and speed-dialled Logan's phone.

"Hey Jon."

"I found him," I said, skipping pleasantries.

"Lydecker?" Logan sounded more alert. "Where is he?"

"Okay, I don't know that. But I know he's been working with a Russian Genetics company, and I think he sold us to them. There's documents on the website that outline the program they plan to put the X5s through once we're recaptured," I said, my voice small. "Zack's the only X5 mentioned."

"Calm down, Jon," Logan said in a soothing tone. "We know now. We can prepare for this. Send me the details you've got, and I'll run them past my contacts, okay?"

"Yeah," I said, still feeling worried. "I'll do it now."

"We'll work through this, Jon."

I hung up, and emailed Logan everything I had tracked down. Hitting the 'send' button, I left the kitchen and slipped into Zack's office, quietly. He was alternately hunched over a file, and tapping at his computer. I walked up behind him and leant down to kiss his cheek. "How's it going?"

"Fine," he gave me a look, pushed his chair back and pulled me into his lap. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nothing important."

Zack played with a lock of hair that lay on my cheek. "You look worried."

"I..." I began. And then I paused. The last time Zack had caught wind of Manticore being on his case, he had split. On our wedding day. He was not running this time. "I love you."

Zack looked taken back. "Jon, what's wrong?" he said, giving me a quizzical look.

"I love you!" I said indignantly. "Can't I tell you that without you being suspicious?"

"Not when I know there's a Fendi sale starting tonight," Zack retorted. "You want my AmEx?"

"Not particularly," I said, kissing his cheek. "Thought we could stay in tonight with a DVD and a pizza. Just you and me."

Zack shook his head. "I love you, too, Jon. No matter how big my credit card bill is," he replied with a wicked glint in his eyes. I slid off his lap, pushing my hair from my eyes and smirked at him.

"Bill size makes up for lack of in other areas," I replied sweetly, and was rewarded with a glare for my efforts.

"You weren't complaining earlier. Go send death threats, let me finish here," he said, turning back to his computer.

I nodded, and left the room, shutting the door behind me. I couldn't tell him he was a target. I couldn't lose him again.

* * *

Please review! Ch 4 will be here soon, now that I can legitimately write this in class. Bwah.


	4. Dresses and the Diner Dealio

**Author's Notes: **Chapter Four, guys, whee! It would've been finished quicker, but... I'll blame the holidays. Hee. I hope you like it. Adjustments will be made when the ever lovely Rose finishes beta reading this. Everyone knows I severely suck at using beta readers, so this is the full on raw chapter. No revisions whatsoever.

Anyways, yes. If you would like to see the covers, director's cuts, first drafts of any of my Dark Angel stories, head to Written-Word dot Org. My writing domain. Love and cookies and Chapter Five is coming.

There is some Russian in this. But you don't need to know it; it's just there for ambience. ('Nyet' translates to 'No', though.)

* * *

"I look fat."

"You look beautiful, Maxie," Tinga said soothingly.

We'd gone shopping for the charity ball thing Margot Cale was holding. Logan had very generously handed over his gold credit cards to Max, and insisted we all go crazy; I think because the dinner was a charity, all costs were tax deductible. Or something; everyone creates a loop hole in laws with today's economy. Skipping out on taxes is hardly the government's biggest issue.

Of course, I hadn't told Zack that, and had accepted his Visa card with an innocent smile and a promise I wouldn't run it up to its limit.

Max – as Mrs Max Guevara-Cale – is pretty damn powerful in Seattle society. The sight of Max is enough to make sales assistants start salivating. But Max coupled with Logan's credit card?

Today, we were in the VIP dressing room, trying on evening dresses. Or, at least Max was at the moment. She was draped in a silky peach coloured dress and looking distinctively unhappy. I guess she had a reason to look unhappy. The colour did absolutely nothing for her, and did draw attention to her pregnant stomach.

"Maybe in blue?" Syl suggested. "You always looked great in blue."

Max nodded, looking tired, and slipped into the changing stall to pull of the peach dress. Brin and I were slumped on a little satin covered seat against the wall, waiting for our turn to drag on overpriced silk and satin combinations and decide which one made our waists looks tiny and our assets look really, really big.

God, I love shopping.

"Rain, can you grab the Valentino in blue?" Tinga called out, sorting out the other dresses we'd brought into the change room. The change room we were using was octagonal; all the walls were draped in cream coloured satin material and mirrors at every angle. There was a small circular stage in the middle of the room, where you could stand and have adjustments to the dress made. The changing stall itself was an alcove behind some of the fabric.

A shop assistant had brought us champagne – and soft drink for Rain and Evie – and offered to run and match shoes or jewellery to whatever we picked out, before vanishing. The alcohol had finally run dry, and I was wishing I'd asked for the bottle. Shopping is one thing. Shopping as a group is a completely obnoxious experience.

"I'm not your damn servant," Rain snapped right back, from where she was slouched against the wall.

Tinga gave Rain a sharp, yet calculating, look. "Get the dress for Max, and you and Evie can go and see a movie or whatever, I guess. We can find you two dresses later on."

Rain grudgingly slunk back out into the shop, only to return minutes later with the offending blue dress, which she handed to Tinga silently. The she came and sat by me.

"Jon," she said in a low voice, as Brin played a game on her cell phone, and Syl and Tinga helped Max do up the back of the dress. "There's a dress out there I really like."

"Yeah?" I said, looking up. "What's it like?"

"It's black, a Zac Posen dress," Rain looked at the ground. "It's really expensive and Zane can't afford it."

"You know Logan's sponsoring this trip," I pointed out.

"There's no way anyone will let me where that thing, it's too…"

"Sexy?"

"Yeah. Zane and Tinga are still trying to dress me like a little kid, like Evie," Rain's shoulders slumped. "It's a really nice dress."

I nodded, and stood up. "Hey, Max, I'm taking Evie and Rain to get a drink, and pick out some dresses to try on."

"Okay," Max looked up, from where she was examining the blue Valentino. It was a pale blue, which set off Max's darker colouring. And the cut was slightly different to the previous dress, and definitely more flattering. "Nothing too outrageous, okay Jon?"

"I swear both girls will look respectable and gorgeous," I said with an innocent look on my face. "I'll do my dress when we get back. Come on guys."

Evie got up from her position on the floor, dropped the book she'd brought into Max's handbag. "I am starving," she announced as we left the evening dress section. "Can we get food before we do the dress thing, please?"

I shrugged. "I guess. Food court?"

Rain trailed after me. "Definitely," she said, giving me a small smile. "I've been dying for the last hour."

I laughed. "You lasted longer than I did. Twenty minutes into it, I was ready to leave. Can't blame Max though, must be hard to be pregnant and emotional and have to pick out an evening dress that the cream of Seattle society will judge you on."

"Yeah," Rain eyed Evie as Evie raced towards the escalator. Since Evie was kidnapped a few months ago, Rain's apparently been extra protective. It's sweet, I guess.

We made it down to the food court, and much to the chagrin of Max (if she found out), we indulged in a total junk food blow out – burgers, fries and sodas. Greasy, yet delicious. Max never lets Evie do stuff like this, so Evie was excited. I knew everything Max had gotten up to as a kid, yet she was surprisingly strict with Evie. Maybe because Max knew the damage a little kid with X5 abilities could accomplish.

I dragged them around everywhere; I took Evie to the pet shop to pet all the baby animals. Rain dragged us both into a CD shop that specialised in angry music for teenagers, and I just felt old, watching all the teenagers in there, with their concert t shirts, their pleather halter tops and matching mini skirts. It had been a very – a _very – _long time since I had worn a halter top and a not-quite-plastic mini skirt. I looked down at my fairly respectable outfit – black jeans, black top with this loose net top over it. And black boots. Syl had cut my hair for me again, so I had thought I looked great.

But I couldn't help eyeing that girl's mini skirt with envy. I didn't even know if I could fit into those sorts of clothes anymore.

I took the girls to an arcade for a while – not many of those left, I can tell you. And it's a few bucks to walk through the door, let alone play any of the games. But Evie was happy playing air hockey with me and Rain messed around with a pin ball machine.

"We should probably head back soon," Rain said as Evie beat me. Again. Air hockey wasn't exactly a skill Manticore promoted.

"Yeah. Get you two some dresses and jewellery and shoes," I said, unenthusiastically. The idea of shrugging on dress after dress just didn't really appeal to me, after all. I'm sure I could have unearthed something from my wardrobe but no one deserves to walk into my wardrobe.

"It'll be fun," Evie beamed. And proceeded to drag Rain and I back to the department store; physically gripping our hands.

It took me fifteen minutes to sort out Evie. She knew what she liked and she knew what Max would refuse to buy her. I helped her pick out some nice dresses and she took an armload into the change rooms – the ones for the common people. Rain slunk away and came back with only two dresses, both of the black nature.

I didn't even bother looking for myself until Rain and Evie had made their choices. I would also have to check with the others to make sure we didn't pick the same dress. Syl and I had done _that_ before and only our physical differences – and Syl's fast work with a pen knife – had saved us from humiliation.

Evie was only nine years old, so even though she knew what her mother would let her wear. Of course, that didn't mean she hadn't smuggled in one or two dresses that were pushing it. She was trying to grow up so fast; I guess one of the repercussions of being the only X5 child (Maxa and Case had spent no significant time with their cousin) and having spent so much time with Rain.

Rain and I spent twenty full minutes vetoing Evie's choices. According to Max – and Logan – Evie was not allowed to wear black. Or anything that was too short. I guess I could understand; she was still a kid. In the end, she picked out this pink-gold dress that ended at her knees and had this lace hem and a sash. Evie looked like a little doll in it; and even though I thought Max would prefer Evie in a longer dress Rain pointed out that Evie was getting older, and Evie could move around more easily in it.

Then Rain started trying on clothes. Rain really was gorgeous – especially before she dyed her hair. The current mud-brown look is unflattering, it washes her out. But with her red hair, she was beautiful. And when you got her out of her jeans and concert t shirts, she really was lovely.

The first dress she tried on was a strapless black one with purple underlay. It was a heavy fabric and sort of dragged Rain down. She was too dainty to wear such a heavy looking dress. It was a gratuitous second choice on Rain's behalf.

She left her first choice to last intentionally. She's damn good at tactics. The second dress was breath taking on her. A black and purple corset dress with a wispy skirt – it was very avant-garde. It was very sexy, and if I had had the bone structure that Rain did, I would have lived in that dress.

"You look breathtaking, Rain," I said to her. Rain flushed and looked down. "But…" I continued.

"I knew it! I knew you wouldn't let me wear anything even slightly sexy!" Rain threw up her hands, anger written across her face. "None of you X5s ever let me do anything I want! I'm not a little kid anym…!"

"Rain!" I snapped at her. "I was just going to say, it'd look even more beautiful if you washed the hair dye out of your hair. You're a prettier redhead."

"Oh." Rain looked sheepish. "Yeah, I guess I'll go buy some red dye."

"Or, just go and see a proper hair dresser and have them fix it properly," I suggested.

"I guess. Zane's not exactly into handing out cash for someone to take a pair of scissors to my hair," Rain shrugged.

"My treat," I offered. "I need to get mine done."

It took me about twenty minutes to convince Rain I would pay for her to fix her hair, convince her that the dress wasn't something Zane would disown her over and then stick her in a pair of heels. Evie was much easier to sort out – tights and standard kid's party shoes – before we headed back to find Max and the others.

"Jondy!" Max was sitting on the satin covered seat, watching Brin – who was trying on the cutest pistachio coloured dress ever. "You've been gone for ages."

"Evie and Rain wanted lunch," I shrugged, slinging myself into the seat next to her. "They picked out their dresses; the shop assistant took them."

"Great," Max smiled. "I hope Evie's isn't too…"

"It's really nice," I reassured her. Brin was now wearing a rose coloured strapless dress. "Brinny, that one is perfect."

"Yeah," Brin smoothed the skirt fabric out. "Do you think Alec will like it?"

I exchanged a grin with Syl who was trying to smother her giggles. We'd all been like that at the beginning of our relationships. To a slightly different degree; Syl, Tinga and I had never ever considered if our respective others would like how we looked in designer dresses.

"You look gorgeous, Brinny," Max said with a smile. "You gonna go with that dress?"

"Yeah, this one," Brin grinned, stepping down and walking towards the dressing room. "You're up, Jondy. Tinga went and grabbed a few dresses for you earlier."

We got away an hour later. Max was complaining of a sore back; and Max never complains about anything. Syl and Brin went to pay for everything with Logan's card, and I offered to take Max and Evie home.

"Just let me go to the bathroom, Jon," Max said, making a face as she rubbed her back.

"Okay. I'm just going to look in the clothes section," I said, slinging my messenger bag across my chest.

Rain was examining a red pleather skirt with lacing up the side when I got to women's clothing. Tinga was behind her, chatting animatedly on her mobile. On my way over to them, I paused by a rack of fringed dresses. Which is when the shit hit the fan.

I'd never really seen Tinga and Rain interact now that Tinga and Zane were something of an item. There was definitely some animosity there, though. But as I checked the sizes of the dress (they were beautiful), Rain was matching up the skirt – which I had to admit, was very skimpy – with a black pleather corset with zippers all over it. I guess Nice Rain had vanished, and now Angry Teenage Rain had replaced her once again.

"You are not buying that outfit," Tinga said with authority, switching her phone off and jamming it in the pocket of her jeans.

"I so am," Rain said with a grin, holding it up against her self. "It's awesome."

"You'll look like a stripper, Rain," Tinga took the skirt from her and hung it back up on the rack. "Come on, we're meeting Zane for lunch."

"I've got money, Tinga. And I really like this outfit," Rain snatched the skirt back off the rack. "You don't have to pay for it or anything."

"I don't want you looking cheap, Rain," Tinga said more forcibly. "I won't let you."

"You won't let me?" Rain's face was flushed with anger. "_You_ won't let _me_? News flash, 656, you _aren't _my mother or my sister or anything like that. You have no authority over me whatsoever. Just because you and Zane have decided to try sex on for size doesn't mean you suddenly get to play disciplinarian. It doesn't mean you and I are ever going to be _friends._"

And Rain threw the skirt and top to the floor, stalking off. Tinga stood there, her hand hovering at her throat, and an annoyed expression on her face. I slid my fringed dress back onto the rack and went over to my big sister. I rested a hand on her shoulder, watching her face carefully.

"She's…" Tinga breathed. "Un-god damned- believable."

"She's eighteen years old, Tinga," I soothed. "It's a prerequisite to be snarky."

"Snarky?" Tinga swung around to face me. "She's making me and Zane miserable. Zane and I are trying to make this work. I haven't had a relationship since Charlie and Zane's been dealing with Miranda's death… I can't fight with Rain, Jondy. Zane adores that girl. I know he's always saying that she's not his daughter or anything, but he loves her like she is, Jondy. I don't want it to come down to her or me. Because I know Zane won't pick me."

Okay, so I probably wasn't the best person to handle this sort of crisis. I mean, yeah, after Zack left me the first time I was bitter. But there's never really been a third person to consider in our relationship. We don't even have a cat.

"It'll be okay, Tinga," I said, totally at a loss at what to say. "Rain's just finished high school and stuff. She's probably scared about college and stuff, and she's taking it out on you. Everything will calm down soon. If any two people ever deserved happiness, it's you and Zane."

Tinga smiled weakly at me. "God, I hope you're right, Jondy."

"I'm always right… except when I'm wrong."

"People generally are, Jon."

* * *

I dropped Max and Evie off at the penthouse and decided to go and get coffee and silver dollar pancakes from a diner on the corner – near Jam Pony. Zack wouldn't be home yet and I still hadn't gotten around to deciding upon my next place of employment. So, pancakes. 

After I ordered, I sat in a window booth and fixed my hair. I'd gotten my barcode removed a few weeks ago, so it just looked like a dark smudge on the back of my neck. I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail and redid my lip glass (way better than lip gloss because it has more colour but also way better than lipstick because it's not quite so heavy) when the waitress served me.

I didn't pay any attention to any of the other customers as I nibbled on my pancakes and sent text messages to Zack to see what time he got off (at work, damnit! Not like _that_.)

_Z. See you 6. Love you – J._

I jammed my phone back in my bag, and finished my coffee. I was going to do some groceries; as delicious as take out was, I was going to cook dinner tonight. I could cook... I counted out money to pay for the food and tucked it under my plate before stepping out of the diner.

I remember the new few minutes with crystal clarity, like I was watching it on the television. I saw Sketchy and Original Cindy across the street, and I called out and waved at them. "Sketchy! OC!"

"Hey, boo!" OC waved back. "Kickin' it at Crash tonight?"

"I'll try and be there!" I called back, rifling in my bag for my mobile phone as I heard it chime.

And then the glass door behind me exploded. I jerked around, my hands covering my face as I heard people inside the diner screaming. A second later the windows exploded and I felt a shard of glass cut my cheek as I dropped to the pavement, my hands over my head, as a spray of bullets continued above my head. I could hear people screaming and I wanted to look up and make sure Sketchy and Original Cindy were okay.

And then silence. I could hear children crying and people calling out for help, for someone to dial 911. I could almost hear the sniper reloading the gun and I reached to my waist, pulling a handgun from underneath my jacket. And I was on my feet, scanning the surrounding area with my transgenic sight. These random sniper attacks happened all the time in Seattle. Two might happen on the same day, and the next might be eight weeks later.

I saw him before I realised what he was doing. It was the warm red dot in the middle of my forehead that tipped me off that maybe - just maybe – our alliance with Lydecker was a very bad thing indeed.

I'm sure if I had hesitated a second, my brains would have been nothing more than a smear on the streets of Seattle. I just collapsed to the ground as the bullet was fired. And my hand was in the air, my gun firing recklessly in the direction the sniper had been in.

"Nyet!"

I saw him crumple and he fell from his hiding place – a second story balcony in an abandoned building – to the pavement below. I was back on my feet, my bag's contents spilling over the pavement as I hurried to the man who had tried to kill me.

Dramatic, I know.

He was about thirty, with a crew cut and bright blue eyes. Slavic, or of Slavic descent, I knew immediately. I had shot him in the stomach, which would ultimately lead to a drawn out and painful death. His hands covered the wound, but blood oozed between his fingers, so red it looked black. He lay on the pavement, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth. He had been lucky he had survived his fall. He wouldn't live much longer.

I steeled myself and aimed my gun at his head. "Who are you?" I demanded.

"Nyet," he spat, blood dribbling down his chin.

"Who do you work for?" I tried again.

He babbled something at me, choking on the blood in his mouth.

"Russian," I said grimly, sliding my gun back into its holster. "Вы работаете для Donald Lydecker?" _Do you work for Donald Lydecker? _My childhood Russian had been terrible at best. If I had been taken hostage by Russians, they would have shot me just to shut me up.

"Da."

Even I could recall what meant.

"He's in Seattle," I said softly to no one in particular.

"Da," the soldier coughed again, spitting the blood onto the pavement. His eyes were glassy and I knew he wouldn't live much longer. It's very hard to remember that he's one of the bad guys when he's lying in a pool of his own blood, staring up at you with eyes that have already begun to congeal. I bit my lip. It had been a long time since I killed a man. Not long enough, I suppose. I brushed my hair from my eyes and looked down at the soldier…

I strode out from behind the hiding place, looking around for Original Cindy and Sketchy. And was met by a few police cars and an ambulance or nine.

"Jondy!" It was Sketchy who raced over to me. "You find the prick that did this?"

"Dead," I said softer than I intended, wiping some blood off my face.

"You look like you need to see a paramedic," Sketchy said suddenly, taking me by the arm and dragged me towards an ambulance.

"Sketch, I'm fine," I said, trying to pull away. Sketch pulled me aside.

"Look, Jondy, the cops are everywhere. Just go with the paramedics," he mumbled and shoved me towards a waiting medic.

Maybe it's because I am a doctor myself, but I hate being patched up. He sloppily stitched the cut along my cheek and the one across my temple, and the one that run up my forearm. They were all surface wounds that would have healed in a week without stitches; with stitches, the scars would be gone by Wednesday. As I sat there, with scratchy gauze covering my cheek and a young guy practicing embroidery on my face and arm, I saw the other medics in the diner.

They carried a little girl out and I had to turn my head. The bullet that had been intended to smear my brains across the pavement had hit her in the back of the head. A woman who could only be her mother was carried out next, a bullet wound to the arm, and she was crying in a high keening tone that I had never heard an Ordinary make.

Blood was smeared everywhere. I sat in the back of the ambulance, watching the surrounding scene, with police questioning everyone. Original Cindy came over once she'd spoken to a police officer, carrying my bag.

"Someone got to your wallet, boo," she said grimly. "And your cell phone's gone."

I nodded, taking my bag from her. There was a streak of blood across it as I held it in my lap. "Thanks, OC."

"You okay, boo?" Original Cindy looked at me with a funny look on her face. "Hey, is she gonna be okay?"

"Just shock," the ambo smiled, handing me a Styrofoam cup of very sweet tea. "We'll take her to Metro Medical to sign some release documents and she'll be fine after a shower and a night's sleep."

The ambulances couldn't leave without clearing with Sector check points, so we had to wait. Original Cindy and I sat silently in the back of the ambulance as I went over exactly what had happened in my mind. I watched the diner make coffees and teas for everyone, sweep up the glass and mop up the blood.

"Is it shock, Jondy?" I turned to look at Cindy. She rarely called me by my name unless she was serious. Her brown eyes looked for my reassurance.

She was right, though. It wasn't shock. It was fear. If Lydecker had Russian snipers going after me; not just to capture but to kill, he meant business. He'd never intended to harm us like that before.

But if the soldier had not radioed in to declare his mission a success, if Lydecker couldn't see my body in the body bag, someone would still come after me. Because I was the closet to Zack, physically. If you're going to take down a target, you eliminate all other civilians in close proximity. Tactics 101. Until I was eliminated, they wouldn't make a move on Zack.

"Cindy," I said, turning towards her. "I need you to tell Logan what happened. Tell him the sniper was a Russian. And to keep Zack at his place tonight, okay?"

"Boo," Original Cindy said, looking confused.

"Someone's after Zack, and I'm the closest to him," I said hurriedly. "Just get out of here, okay? Go straight to Logan's."

With any luck, I'd have Russians waiting for me at the hospital.

* * *

This is the place I beg you for reviews. Please? Just so I know people are reading. 


	5. The Hostile Hospital

**Title: **Eleven Easy Steps to A Normal Life

**Author: **Alexandra Bruderlin

**Rating: **M15+ **  
**

**Disclaimer: **All characters you recognise are owned by James Cameron. I own Rain and Evie though, and I highly doubt anyone wants either of them. I make no profit from my fan work

**Notes #1: **Since this chapter took a lot longer than it should have, it's a longer chapter, huffah. I hope you like it, as it is the second of two versions I wrote, and I personally think the better one. And since I've finally finished high school, I plan to spend my summer writing Lost and Dark Angel fic (my Lost fic is posted under a different account; email me if you would like the URL).

**Notes #2: **Okay, I may be the world's slowest updater, but I work really hard to get every single chapter exactly right before I post it. I don't work with a beta reader because I won't let anyone look at my work before it is ready for presentation. I work really hard on all my writing, and I absolutely love doing it, but it doesn't seem like many people care very much. I'm only getting one or two reviews for each chapter - and I appreciate those reviews more than I can say - but when 65 people click on a chapter, and I get 2 reviews, it depresses me.

May 2006 will be the fourth anniversary of Dark Angel's cancellation - I'm not going anywhere. But I - and all of the other DA writers, I'm sure - would adore for the readers to show more support of their writing. Even if your review is just "Read it", it makes us feel good.

So, please review. I have a whole summer of writing ahead of me, and it's nice to start off on a good note.

* * *

Having acquired a medical degree probably made me even more aware of the corruption American faced. I've seen nurses only hand out medication to patients who pay them on the quiet. I've seen people bribe technicians to change blood test results. I've seen people die because they couldn't afford to bribe a doctor for the right treatment. Finding out the medication you prescribed was sold on the quiet and a young mother died for want of it does make you pessimistic.

I also know that for cuts and bruises, you do not need to be admitted to hospital. I'm smart like that.

But the paramedic who brought me in insisted that I needed a blood transfusion, which required that I be admitted, and that I needed to hand over my hard earned cash. What I was thinking was not polite at all. I could have stitched up my arm whilst walking home; it stung like a bitch, but I'm an X5, I'm not about to whine about a petty wound like that.

So, I lay back on the stretcher and examined my arm, which was still making a gallant effort to bleed, even through the stitches. I know my jeans and top had a fair bit of blood on them already. Damnit.

It's lucky the sector cops were feeling kind, and let the ambulance through. It's even luckier that the driver through open the ambulance doors at the time he did – just as the asshole paramedic ran his hand down my leg.

If he had waited one second to jump from the ambulance, he wouldn't be procreating in this universe. He jumped down, and I glared back, wiping my bloody arm on my shirt again and jumping out without any assistance. A nurse started to guide me into the E.R. as the paramedic gave me a smug smirk.

"That asshole sexually harassed me," I said loudly, eyeing a security guard a few metres away.

"I don't think you want to cause a fuss, dear," the nurse smiled at me, her eyes hard and emotionless. "You don't want to draw attention to yourself now, do you?" Her insipid smile didn't flicker as she grabbed my arm and examined the cut. I frowned at her as she did so. I was used to thinly veiled threats – I mean, I live with Zack. But this woman threw me; she was a _nurse_. Zack could withhold my credit cards; what the hell could she do to me? Take away the band-aids?

"We better get you admitted, dear," the woman nodded and guided me down the hall, past an E.R waiting room full of women in labour, children with burns and teenagers with paper clips wedged in their eye socks. Very odd – especially since I didn't even have my wallet on me.

"Now," the nurse steered me into a proper room, rather than a cubicle, and shut the door behind her. "Let's get you set up. I think a blood transfusion is in order, for that nasty cut. Better get yourself into a gown."

Okay, so some woman who threatened me and insisted I be tucked into a hospital bed before I was even _admitted _had to be smoking something strong if she thought I was going to strip for her and put on a glorified bed sheet.

"I'd rather stay in my clothes," I said, tossing my keys and lip gloss onto the shelf and tugging off my jacket. "Really, I've had a blood transfusion before and… I just really like these jeans."

"I'm sure you do," the nurse held out the hospital gown – nylon, white and blue, with press stud buttons down the front. "But it's hospital procedure. I'll go and get you a telephone and some forms to fill in, and then we can get the doctor down here."

She stayed until I handed over my clothes – I kept my underwear on on principle. That, and it was really nice underwear, with little lace daisies. She tucked me into the damn bed – yes, literally tucked me in – and hurried out. And as the door shut, I heard the unmistakable 'click' of the door being locked.

Fantastic, I was locking in a hospital room sans my clothes, with Russians looking to assassinate my boyfriend and a nurse who just looked evil – and not just because she needed a serious lip wax. And the bed felt like it had been made with newspaper. Particularly crisp newspaper. And, of course, there were no telephones – there was a steel jug of water on the nightstand, and inside it, I only found a glass bottle of peroxide and a glass thermometer. Since I was minus virtually all my possessions, I jammed the peroxide and the thermometer under my pillow.

They may have been crappy weapons, but at least I was armed.

I decided just to lie back and let everything happen – I needed to understand the situation before I dove in, all guns blazing.

If I had a gun. I'm sure I could make the peroxide into a very convincing bomb, if this hadn't been a hospital. It takes so long to get the medical credentials, now that I was legally a doctor; I didn't feel good going around and blowing people up. Especially sick people.

So, no bombs.

The nurse came back then, with a completely fake smile on her face, a male doctor trailing after her.

"Okay, Miss," the nurse smiled as she placed a tray on my knees – a bag of blood, some tubing, a needle and a little bottle of something clear, the labelled faded and peeling off. "We're just going to set up your transfusion, and you should be ready to go home in an hour or so."

The doctor grabbed my arm and started inspecting my veins.

"What's the clear stuff for?" I asked innocently. Please, I'm not that stupid.

"Just something to help you relax," the doctor said softly, sliding the needle into my wrist. As the nurse unscrewed it, the labelled came away, and I managed to read the script-like handwriting - _"100 Liquid Potassium Chloride."_

My reflexes kicked in and with a nudge of my knees, the tray tumbled to the floor and the blood back split open, splattering both the nurse and the doctor with blood. They swore at the same time.

"Oh!" I sat up, looking at the congealing blood on the dirty linoleum floor. "I'm sorry!"

"I'll get a mop," the nurse spat, putting down the bottle of Potassium Chloride on my night stand, and looked at the doctor. "You get more blood."

They both left the room, locking the door behind them. God, you could so tell she'd only ever worked with geriatrics before. No self-respecting nurse for children or me would have left me alone with a floor covered in blood and the happy bottle of euthanasia.

I was getting seriously bored with this.

I grabbed the glass bottle, and tipped the Potassium Chloride behind the nightstand, filling the empty bottle with water. It definitely didn't look much like the Potassium Chloride but whatever.

So, the door swung open. And I wasn't exactly prepared for what happened next.

An albino guy, dressed head to foot in military garb, burst in and began wildly firing his machine gun at me. Really classy. I rolled out of bed, landing in the congealing blood, the peroxide bottle and thermometer in my hands. I wriggled under the bed, and examined it quickly – it was metal, solid base – basically, an effective yet crude shield until this ass ran out of bullets or subtle ideas. I grabbed hold of the bed legs and pulled it forward, so that the bed flipped upright and protected me from the barrage of bullets.

Quick thinking has saved my life more times than I can count. And Krit called me a 'dumb ass' when I saw him last. Fool.

I flattened myself against the wall and balanced the peroxide in one hand. As easy as it would be to blow up the entire room with the peroxide and the wires from the broken bed lamp. But third degree burns had never been a good look for me (2005, Zane and a power box. I still have a scar along my hair line from the skin grafts).

I held my breath, listening as the soldier moved forward. As he leant around the upturned bed, his gun aimed at my face, I grabbed it and slammed it backwards in the soldier's face, effectively breaking his nose and hopefully cracking his skull. He crumpled backwards like a doll and I straightened up, aiming the gun at him in case he was faking it. The blood cascading down his face kinda suggested he was out for the count. I stood over him, plucking his hand gun from its holster and reached to take his jacket.

The door swung open to reveal another soldier – the same Slavic looks, and the same logo on the sleeve of his uniform. He looked down at his buddy on the hospital lino and up at me, the gun in my hand, and reached for his own firearm. I was on my feet, the unconscious-soldier's jacket half on and half dragging on the ground behind me, aiming the gun at the other Russian idiot.

This Russian idiot remembered to slam the door when he came in, which meant I couldn't just flee. Opening a door would eat up precious seconds, and give the soldier enough time to shoot me in the back. Or the skull. I'd have to beat him senseless first.

I don't think he expected me to dodge bullets, really. He swore in Russian and fired at me again; the drip bag hanging from its little metal stand exploded all over me (it was just a saline solution; nothing that would burn the skin from my body), making me look like a drowned rat. I shed the now-wet jacket, and hoped to go the saline hadn't made my hospital gown completely see through.

It didn't take him long to run out of ammo, though. He was firing wildly, with little regard for actually aiming or the fact I could dodge bullets. The last bullet hit the florescent light buzzing above us, the argon from the inside of it coating everything in the room. And then there was a sad clicking noise from the gun, and the look of horror across his face would have been comical if he hadn't been trying to kill me.

It took me seconds to leap across the room, the gun held in my hands. I was going to shoot him in the head, but at the last second I faltered and he took that moment to slam his own gun into my face; it caught me on the left side of my face – I could taste the blood in my mouth as he pulled the gun back for another go. But my reflexes kicked in and I kick him in the groin good and hard. He made a strangled squeaking name and grabbed for me, but I slapped by fist into his nose, the nasal cartilage crumbling under my hand, and blood pouring down his now-pale face.

And with a knee into his stomach, he fell to the grimy hospital lino, with a pretty sad-sounding moan. I stripped him of his gun, pulling out the magazine. I looked around for the damp jacket and shrugged it back on. I had no idea where my things had ended up, but this would have to do. I put the magazines of both guns into the jacket pocket, before finding their radios and pocketing them too.

It was quiet in the hallway, and there were no nurses around – just a row of closed doors, and a metal cart piled with things – books, blankets, flowers, packets of sugar…

A black nylon blanket was knotted around my waist as a make shift sarong, but there were no shoes on the cart. I'd have to get across town, to Logan's apartment barefoot and hope to go that no one caught me and that I didn't catch anything nasty. I may be transgenic, but this is _Seattle_; who knows what I'm going to die of just from breathing the air.

I left the radios in the cart, wrapped in the most enormous pair of flesh-pink boxer shorts I have ever seen, after I ripped the wires out. And then I sprinted for the fire exit. I had seriously damaged those soldiers, but that didn't mean they didn't have back up.

The fire exit lead out the back of the hospital, to a construction area. Back before the Pulse, they were going to build a new hospital, but then America's economy collapsed, and the old hospital was hastily patched up. It was just gravel and dirt, with a wire fence surrounding it, and three concrete walls. Some rolls of industrial wire and the like lay around, but nothing serious.

I could hear an alarm in the hospital, and moved forward towards the three walls, a sheet of corrugated iron turning it into a makeshift room. I was panicking for a second; there was no place to hide.

Except for a small hole in the corner of two of the walls – it looked like the earth had caved in a bit. Or it was the world's crappiest attempt at digging a basement floor. Who gave a damn?

I slipped through, and wriggled down into it. I was right; the earth was caving in – there was a sewer system down here that was too close to the surface and no one had checked before they began building. There was some dirty water, and I could hear a few rats but I jumped straight down and pressed myself against the cool concrete wall of the sewer and tried to ignore the sludge that was covering my feet and ankles.

I could hear people talking above me, and a few beams from flashlights flicked down into the sewer, but nowhere near me. I held my breath and waited patiently as I heard their voices retreat. Some of the voices had been speaking hushed Russian, but I had definitely caught some English as well.

I couldn't leave yet; it wasn't to my tactical advantage. I had to wait it out, with rats crawling up my legs, my arm bleeding quite proficiently now, and the left side of my face had swelled up already. I wanted my pink bubble bath, a cup of tea and maybe my cotton pyjamas.

I waited for hours; timed positively crawled by, like the rats. But finally, I moved towards the hole, where I climbed down. I crawled up slowly, wriggling through the hole quietly and slipped across the construction site. The gravel and broken glass dug into my feet as I raced through the construction site, towards the boundary. Beyond the boundary lay the docks, where I'd find hookers whose shoes I would steal. There was no way I could walk across the city barefoot.

It wasn't hard to find a hooker; one spotted me walking down past the warehouses, my hair hanging down around my face, a man's army jacket buttons up over my hospital gown, the blanket-skirt flapping at my legs. And a surprising amount of blood and bruising.

"Damn girl, I hope he paid you well," she drawled at me, puffing on a cigarette.

"Not a dime," I pushed my hair from my eyes. "Took my clothes and my stuff too."

"Damn," she rifled around in her purse and brought out a twist of paper. "I got something that'll take the sting out of that face of yours."

"I gotta get back and explain why I didn't get paid tonight," I sighed. "Straight across town."

"Your feet will be bloody stumps by then, girl," the girl shook a pill into her hand. As she swallowed it, my fist hit the back of her head and she was out like a light. I took her shoes; impossibly high silver stilettos with pink rhinestone flowers over the straps. They were a size too big for me, and my feet throbbed as I straightened. I took the black scarf from her hair too, using it to knot my hair back in a ponytail, and ten dollars from her purse.

I slipped her I.D. from her bag. Donna Miller; poor thing was going to wake up barefoot now. But she'd be fine – whatever pill she popped would make her forget about me and explain away her unconscious state.

She'd be fine.

And I began walking – I stuck to streets that didn't have sector cops lounging around them, moving as quickly as I could in my borrowed shoes. I only turned my ankle twice in however many blocks I walked.

The sight of Foggle Towers was almost enough to make me cry with relief. I think I did shed a few tears as I stepped into the elevator and hit the button. And I gazed into the mirror panels in the elevator; my face was grey and white on one side, and swollen purple and black on the other. The stitches in my cheek had come open and there was a trail of dried blood down my cheek to my chin. My hair hung in rats tails, mattered beyond recognition. I just stared blankly at my reflection, and waited for the elevator to reach Logan's floor.

I didn't recall instantly what happened to my keys, so I knocked and inspected my nails. Ripped and bloody; manicures were wasted on me. And my head was hurting.

It was Logan who swung open the door, as if he was waiting for someone.

"Is Zack still here?" I asked in a small voice.

"Shit." Logan stared at me. "Zack, get in here."

Zack looked pissed as he strode through the room. Actually, more than pissed; he hadn't looked like that since he saw my last AmEx bill. But as he caught sight of me, Logan's arm around my waist, leading me into the lounge room, he froze.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, coming around to my other side.

"Saving your sorry ass," I said as Logan went to get the First Aid kit. "I need a shower."

"You need medical attention," Logan called from the other room.

"So help me god, if you take me back to the hospital," I snapped as Zack propped me up on the couch.

"You've been to the hospital," Zack repeated, beginning to unbuckle the shoes of doom.

"Yes," I said. "Where's Max?"

"Asleep," Logan said. "So is Evie. I'm going to call Bling over. You need to have a bath and get some clean clothes on." Logan slipped off into the kitchen to call Bling. Poor Bling; it felt like he was on call with us; constantly patching us up or something.

"You want me to go home and get you some clean clothes?" Zack. He'd untied the blanket-skirt and taken the scarf out of my hair.

I shook my head, suddenly bone tired. "Help me in the bath?" I said pathetically, standing. He followed me in.

The bath was deliciously warm, and Max bought great bricks of rose scented soap and body gel. I hissed as my cuts hit the soapy water, but damn it was good to get the muck off of my feet and legs. Just as I settled back with the soap, Zack shook his head.

"Get out again, and I'll refill it," he said, offering me a bathrobe – a worn out red one that smelt of Maxie's perfume.

"What?" I looked around me; the water was grey with dirt.

"Wash your hair under the shower before you get back in," Zack said as I stepped out. "Your hair will just make the bath dirty again."

I nodded, shedding the robe and stepping into Max and Logan's amazing shower. It was a glass cage with two shower heads and little racks full of bath products – it took half a bottle of Max's flower scented shampoo for my hair to rinse clean; my hair seemed lighter, free of the dirt and city filth.

I climbed back into the bath, my whole body aching like a bitch, my hair pinned up on my head.

"Everything hurts," I closed my eyes, sinking into the warm water.

"What happened?" Zack's voice was soothing, as he stood against the wall, watching me.

"…" I didn't know where to start. "There's a Russian company coming after us. I didn't know they were so far ahead in their plan but…" My voice trailed off. The hot water felt so good.

"I'll be back," Zack slipped from the bathroom, leaving me to doze in the hot water. My behaviour was typical; X5s turn to sleep to allow their bodies time to heal. My head felt like it was floating. I barely noticed when Zack returned with fluffy towels and a pair of Max's pyjamas. I know he wrapped me in the towel, kissing my neck and helping me out of the bath.

The pyjamas were coral coloured, a bizarre shade any time of the day, and made from modal, which is the softest and most comfortable pyjama fabric in the face of existence. The pyjama top had string straps that slipped off my shoulders so many times, that Zack knotted them at the front.

The rest of the evening is kind of fuzzy with my exhausted state. Bling was waiting for me with a much larger First Aid kit than Logan had. He restitched my cheek and arm, bandaged both my feet and my swollen cheek. Logan forced me to drink a mug of tea so sweet I almost gagged, and Bling sent me off to the guest room with some pain killers.

Logan's guest room had been redecorated while I was in L.A.; a double bed had replaced the single, and there was now a full length mirror and a dresser in there. I crawled under the blankets to the furthest side of the bed, against the wall, and curled up in a ball. I think I was technically asleep before I even climbed into the bed.

I remember sleeping and trying to find something in my pockets, when I was shaken awake. Logan leant over me, light spilling in from the other room.

"Jondy, what's wrong?" he said calmly. "You were calling out."

"In my pockets. They're in my pockets." I have no idea what pain killers Bling had given me but I was suddenly wide awake but incoherent and disoriented. "I took them so they couldn't reload. I couldn't kill them, Logan. I'm not a killer."

"Calm down, Jon." Zack appeared next to Logan. "We've got them. Go back to sleep. I'll come in soon." He knelt across the bed, and pushed my hair behind my ear and somehow lay me back down whilst I babbled about killing people – or in my case, not killing people. "Sleep."

It seemed like my body was taking his orders all of a sudden, because my eyes slid shut the second they both left. But I could hear their voices outside my door.

"Calm… where's… don't mind…"

"Of course… bathroom… stay…"

I was out before I could make sense of any of the conversation, happily drugged. It was later Zack came back in, stripped down to his boxers and climbed in next to me, pulled me into his arms.

"You feel okay?" he murmured in my ear.

"Uh huh," I rested my head against his shoulder. "Just don't go anywhere, okay?"

"Okay.

* * *


End file.
